FALL mi¥EE, 



AN 



AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, 



BY THE AUTHOR OF 



'TALES, NATIONAL, REVOLUTIONARY," &c. &c. 



//^.:'* 



" Oh for a Lodge in some vast wilderDeM, 
Some boundless contiguity of shade, 
Where rumour of oppression and deceit 
Can never reach me more. 
My eoul is sick with every day's report 
Of the world's baseness." 






SOLD BY ''**— 

LILLY, WAIT & CO. BOSTON: MARSHALL, 
BROWN & CO. PROVIDENCE. 

1834. 



FT4 

FrvV 



Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 
1833, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United 
States, within and for the Rhode-Island District. 



Marsh & Harrison, Printerii. ( 

.1 



PREFACE 



.. It is with feelings of embarrassment nerer felt on any for 

^ >w mer occasion, that the writer of this little volume lays it before 
A the iHxblic. The tale which forms the principal part of its con- 
^ vients has been hitherto treated in such an indecent manner, 
r^ that this, of itself, was nearly sufficient to terrify any one at the 
J undertaking ; and it was not until after long and reiterated 
r^ persuasion, tha-t the author was induced to attempt it. Who 
^ first proposed it, is of no consequence : it is sufficient that a 
very great part of the subscribers and patrons of former works 
have seconded the request ; and if the volume answers no 
other purpose except proving the wish to oblige, it will cer- 
tainly answer an important one. But we confidently hope it 
may answer other and more useful ones. 

The History of Fall River, a place which is becoming of so 
much importance in the manufacturing world, cannot but be 
acceptable to the public. The anecdotes connected with its 
revolutionary history are worthy to be preserved. And a fair 
and candid statement of facts, connected with the late unhappy 
affair in that quarter, is desirable. As to the trial, it does not 
treat of things in their proper order, nor cannot : and in the 
next place, none but what is called legal evidence is admissi- 
ble ; and lastly — and its greatest objection — it is not fit for any 
body to read. A narrative, therefore, that would embrace 
the facts, without any of the odiou* details in the trial, is high- 
ly necessary, if public curiosity on the subject is lawful : and 
who shall say that it is not ? 

There is another way too, in which it is hoped and pre- 
sumed this work may prove useful : — as a salutary and time- 
ly warning to young women in the same situation in Hfe, in 
which the ill fated girl was placed, who is the subject of this 
narrative. On many accounts it may benefit. That baneful 
disposition to rove, to keep moving from place to place, which 
has been the ruin of so many, will her« receive a check. And 
what is more important still — though an extremely difficiilt 
1* 



VI PREFACE, 

subject to treat upon so as to be understood — they will be warn- 
ed, by the fate of one, against that idolatrous regard for min- 
isters, for preachers of the gospel, which at the present day is 
a scandal to the cause of Christianity ; which neither honors 
God or benefits his church ; and certainly is calculated to 
bring reproach and ridicule on the christian character. To 
venerate the ambassador of the Most High, and listen to him 
with respect, while in the sacred discharge of his ministerial 
duties, is right and proper ; to contribute to his relief in sick- 
ness and support in health, of our abundance, or our personal 
exertion, if necessary, is likewise our duty ; but here let us 
stop, and not make ourselves, and the cause we profess to be 
engaged in, ridiculous, by such attentions as mortal man 
ovght never to receive. 

The absurd custom of crowding round some handsome 
preacher on every occasion, in order to share hi^ smiles, and 
be distinguished by his gracious gallantries, has justly excited 
the ridicule of a large part of the community, and armed every 
scoffer with weapons against that holy cause, which ought not 
to suiFer from the faults of its ignorant professors, but which 
they nevertheless confound together. Besides, ministers are 
mortal men ; and, with good intentions, sometimes persons of 
weak minds : and it requires a very strong mind to resist con- 
tinual flattery. Some of them too are ignorant persons ; peo- 
ple, who, if they had their proper places in society, would be 
hewers of wood and drawers of water, rather than teachers. 
This description of false teachers is very plainly set forth in 
the Scriptures, as being " ever learning, and never able to 
come to the knowledge of the truth;" as "creeping into 
houses, and leading captive silly women," &c. &c. This last 
description of preachers take care to insinuate themselves in- 
to every place where they can possibly find entrance. No 
matter what the reUgious privileges of the people may be they 
go among : unless they themselves have built up a sect among 
them, they consider them as destitute of truth and the means 
of grace. If a neighborhood is furnished with ever so many 



PREFACE. Vll 

good, respectable, competent teachers, supported by those 
who are able to do it, there must be one more added, if there 
is no other way to support him but out of the hard earnings 
of the poor. Now the fact is, that a preacher, who cannot be 
supported without drawing upon the chanty of poor factoiy 
girls, ought to ^o in and go to work himself. 

It will be seen too after perusing the history of this unfortu- 
nate girl, whether a course of spiritual dissipation is favorable 
to the growth of religion in the soul ; whether a continual 
round of going to meetings night and day, is in reality recom 
mending the cause, or likely to recommend the character, or 
preserve the characters of young women, in an especial man- 
ner. It is much to be feared it is otherwise. In the first 
place, this appearance of superior devotedness, this over zeal, 
fails in no instance to draw all eyes upon her. There is ri- 
valship in churches it is known, as well as in other communi- 
ties, and such members are watched with jealous regard , if 
they go and return protected as they ought to be by one of 
the other sex, barbarous insinuations will sometimes be made ; 
if on the contrary they wander about from meeting to meet- 
ing alone, they are immediately censured. And added to 
this it is expected that the general deportment of such females 
should differ from that of others ; that it should present an 
appearance of stiffness and restraint incompatible with youth, 
witli cheerfulness and a social temper; hence the slightest 
deviation from the prescribed forms is censured in such per- 
sons as a crime ; what would pass in others without remark, 
is the subject of unqualified abuse in these, and induces a 
species of persecution, that too often results in loss of charac" 
ter to the victim. 

And is this counterbalanced by any inward advantage ? — 
Does religion thrive most in noise and tumult? Does the 
heart become better, the imagination purer, the temper more 
placid ? Can that God, who is worshipped only in spirit and 
in truth, be only honored in a crowd ? Let every heart de- 
cide the question. 



Vlll PREFACE. 

With respect to embellishment in this book, no person ac- 
quainted with the facts, who has seen it, pretends to say there 
is any, except in the first interview between the physician and 
the unfortunate heroine of the tale ; where it is said the phra- 
seology is improved without altering the facts. If the error is 
on the side of delicacy we hope to be pardoned. 



L 






( im;:.;j-'' 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 



CHAPTER I. 

Situated on a rather abrupt elevation of land 
rising from the northeast side of Mount Hope bay, 
distant about eighteen miles from Newport, and 
nine from Bristol, R. I. stands the beautiful and 
flourishing village of Fall River,so called from the 
river, which taking its rise about four miles east, 
runs through the place, and after many a fantastic 
turn, is hurried to the bay over beds of rocks, where, 
before the sce'ne was marred by the hand of cultiva- 
tion and improvement, it formed several beautiful 
cascades and had a fine and imposing effect. The 
village is now only picturesque from the variety of 
delightful landscape by which it is surrounded, the 
back ground presenting a variety in rural scenery, 
where neat farms and fertile fields shew them- 
selves here and there, between hill and dale and 
rock and wood. The soil, though for the most part 
fertile, is in some places exceedingly rocky, and 
often in the midst of such places some little verdant 
spot shews itself, looking, as Cunningham says, 
" as tho' it were wrested from the hand of nature." 

But Fall River is chiefly inviting as a place of 
residence from the salubrity of its air, and the vi- 
cinity of Mount Hope bay, which spreads before it 
like a mirror, and extends easterly until it meets 
the waters of Taunton river, forming on each side 
immerous little creeks and coves, which add to the 
charms of the landscape materially ; while on the 
southwest it takes a bold sweep, and passing round 
through Howland's ferry, where it is compressed 



10 FALL RIVER, 

through the narrow channel of a drawbridge, hav- 
ing the ishmd of Rhode-Island on one hand and 
the town of Tiverton on the other, again expands 
and flows on to meet the ocean. Rowland's ferry is 
not visible from the village of Fall River, though 
it ig from the bay when at the distance of three or 
four miles. Vessels do sometimes pass and repass 
through the drawbridge at Rowland's ft^rry to and 
from Fall River and Taunton ; but the most usual 
way of access to the former is through Bristol fer- 
ry, two miles south of Bristol port. It requires 
no great effort of imagination to go back a few 
years, and imagine the Indian with his light canoe 
sailing about in these waters, or dodging about 
among the rocks and trees. I'hfe neighborhood of 
Fall River has been the scene of frequent skirmish- 
es among the Ficknets, the tribe of King' Philip, 
and the Pequods and Narragansetts'. Uncas too, 
with the last of the Mohicans and the best, has 
set his princely foot upon its strand. 

Fall River, which in 1812 contained less than 
one hundred inhabitants, ov/es its growth and im- 
portance principally, indeed almost wholly, to its 
manufacturing establishments: which, though not 
splendid in appearance, are very numerous and 
employ several thousand persons collected from 
different parts of the country, as well as many 
foreigners: the immense fall of water here being 
now nearly covered by establishments of various 
kinds. 

There are at least fortythousand spindles in op- 
eration, and it is only twenty-one years since the 
erection of the first cotton manufactory. Previous 
to this the land in this vicinity belonged principally 
to the families of Bordon, Bowen, and Durfee ; 
three families from whom the principal part of the 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 11 

stationary inhabitants sprung-. The land now di- 
vided among the different manufacturing establish- 
ments is principally held in shares, that is in tJie 
neighborhood of the establishments. So flourish- 
ing has business been there, that there is scarce a 
machanic, trader, or even labourer, who has been 
there for any length of time, who has not acquir- 
ed an estate of his own. In 1812 the first cotton 
manufactory was erected by a company incorpo- 
rated by the name of the Fall River Company. 
In the same year, another company was incorpo- 
rated called the Troy Manufacturing Company, 
and another factory built. There are nGw,in 1633, 
thirteen manufactories, viz. two cotton manufac- 
tories of the Troy Company — Pocasset,one wool- 
len do. — New Pocasset— Massasoit— 01ne3^*s mill, 
— Calico works — Fall River Company's mills, 
three in number — Annawan — Iron Works and 
Nail Manufactory. The Calico Works alone, 
which cover a large area of ground, employ nearly 
three hundred hands ; its state of improvement is 
not, we believe, exceeded by any establishment of 
the kind in the country — besides a number of ma- 
chine shops, &c. which, stuck about on the jutting 
rocks, many of them, in the very bed of the stream, 
have a most singular appearance. The fall origi- 
nally was through a deep black gulf, with high 
rocky sides. Across this gulf most of the manu- 
factories are built. There is an appearance of ac- 
tive industry and a spirit of enterprise, as well as of 
cheerfulness and contentment, that at once strikes 
a stranger. It is evident too from the number of 
houses of worship, schools, &c. that the moral and 
religious education of the rising generation is not 
neglected. There are seven houses of worship. 
Two forCongregationalists, two for Baptists, one 



12 

Free- Will Baptist, one Unitarian, one Methodist, 
&LC. There are a number of free-schools here, to- 
wards which the inhabitants themselves voluntari- 
ly contribute twenty-five hundred dollars per an- 
num. The number of inhabitants at the present 
date, 1833, is said to exceed five thousand. It is to 
be supposed that among the heterog-eneous mate- 
rials which form the community in this place, there 
is a great variety of character, as well as of creeds; 
occasionally some differences of opinion as well as 
clashing of interests. Yet for the most part crime 
has been unknown there. There have indeed been 
a few suicides, but they were " few and far be- 
tween ;"and it has'often been a boast among the in- 
habitants, that living as they do, on the borders of 
two states (part, and by far the greater part, is in 
Troy, Mass. the other in Tiverton, R. I.) the laws 
of either were seldom called in to punish anything 
except venial transgressions. Fall River too can 
boast of its prov^ess in battle, of its revolutionary 
characters in "the times that tried men's souls." 
For although their humble attempts to resist inva- 
sion have not yet found a place on the pagesof his- 
tory, yet certain it is, the tide of war has once roll- 
ed its threatening waves as far up as to reach the 
shores of Mount Hope bay. The character for 
bravery, generosity, and independence of mind 
manifested at that period seems to have become a 
part of their inheritance. Among all the changes 
which the increase of population causes, the pri- 
mitive virtues of simplicity and hospitality are still 
eminently conspicuous. Whoever goes to reside 
there seems to adopt readilythe manners of the in- 
habitants. Even the labouring part of the commu- 
nity in the manufactories, as well as in other ds- 
partments,are positively distinguished by a degree 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 13 

of refinement and courtesy of manners, superior in 
a great degree to what we usually meet with in 
manufacturing villages.* It is a fact that speaks 
loudly and deserves to be recorded in letters of 
gold, that Fall River is the only place known to the 
writer of these sheets where she ever past a week 
without hearing one individual speak ill of another: 
and few persons ever had a greater opportunity, 
having spoken with more than three hundred peo- 
ple during that time. 

We have stated that previous to the commence- 
ment of its settlement as a manufacturing village, 
and even as far back as the revolutionary war, the 
families of Bordon, Bo wen and Durfee, were the 
principal proprietors of the soil, and brave fellows 
they were too, some of them. Even the soil around 
this secluded spot was stained with the contest. 
At the time Newport was in possession of the Brit- 
ish, there was an attempt made to destroy their 
mills at this place, consisting of saw mills, grist 
mills and a fulling mill. An expedition was fitted 
out in boats, and came upon them in the night with 
the intention of firing the village, consisting of a 
little cluster of houses, about ten in number, and 
those remote from each other. They were aided 
by some of the tory refugees, and succeeded in 
landing on the shore, a little below the long wharf, 
that now is, where they fired the house of Thomas 
Bordon. Several little bridges lay between them 
and the mills, and these were immediatly destroy- 
ed by the brave little handful of men collected on 
the spot, except the last, behind which they en- 

* I shall always recollect with pleasure one little incident, in one of the weav- 
ing rooms of the manufactory, where the noise was very distracting arising 
from a vast number of looms going at once. The machinery suddenly stopped, 
and a strain of music arose simuhaneously from every part of the room, in such 
perfect concord that I at first thought it a chime of bells. My conductor smiltd 
when I asked him if it was not, and pointed to the girls, who each kept their sta- 
tion until they had sung the tune through. 

2 



14 FALL RIVER, 

trenched themselves, and commenced firing a ft w 
yankee sliot, and from behind the house of Rich- 
ard Borden, at the corner of which one of the ene- 
my was shot. (The okl fabric is still standing.) 
The enemy continuing to advance, and become 
more formidable, they succeeded in levelling two 
of them ; one was shot dead, supposed by Doc. 
John Turner, and the other mortally wounded. 
This rather intimidated the assailants, who made 
a motion to retreat, but after haulting at a little 
distance, returned again, and the scuiHe was re- 
newed — the yankees lighting bravely, with their 
last powder and ball ; finding their ammunition ail 
e5ipended,they contrived to make up the defect by 
management. One of them, Sherman, by name, was 
mounted on the wall, and instructed to give orders, 
which he did with a great flourish, telling them to 
fight on bravely — the day was their own, and they 
had ammunition enough to last a month. The poor 
fellows had then the very last in their guns-but they 
gave a great shout, and discharged that in the face 
of the foe, who swallowed the bait, and retreated 
to their boats, carrying with them, however, one 
prisoner, old Mr. Richard Borden, who had ven- 
tured too near in the zeal of the moment. Boys fif- 
teen and sixteen years old, fought in that contest, 
and women brandished their broomsticks, and tra- 
dition says only one small boy was frightened, and 
he ran off and hid in the woods until it was over. 
One of the tories who had been an inhabitant of 
Fall River,and guided the enemyto this little nook 
was named Holland. The business not prospering 
as he expected, he was glad to retreat with the 
British, and at the evacuation of Newport went to 
reside at Halifax, Many years subsequent to this, 
and after he had become quite an old man, he re- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 15 

turned to America, and being anxious to see Fall 
River, the scene of his treacherous attempts, he 
visited it under an assumed name. Thomas Bor- 
den was then an old man, and the stranger made 
some pretence for calling at his house, but in spite 
of his disguise and the lapse of years, his eagle eye 
detected the resemblance, and hastily advancing 
he demanded to know " if he was not the traitor 
Holland." The stranger stoutly denied himself to 
be that character. " If I knew you was," said the 
old man, clenehing his fist, " I would lay you on 
that forestick, (pointing to the lire) and roast yon 
to a cinder." Holland, terrified, fled again from 
the place and has never been there since. 

This Richard Borden was a singular character 
for oddity. He was taken prisoner, I before ob- 
served, at the memorable contest of the mills, and 
as they were carrying him off laid down in the boat 
while they were passing Bristol Ferry, lest some 
Rhot from his enraged countrymen should reach 
them. The enemy commanded him to stand up, 
which he refusing, two men took hold of him and 
attempted to force him upon his feet, when a chain 
shot from the shore, mowed them both down at 
once, and they fell on the body of the prisoner, 
dead men. 

The wounded prisoner, meanwhile at Fall River, 
died the next day, and the two comrades were 
buried on the spot where they fell, side by side. 
One Peter Thatcher, who had distinguished him- 
self on that memorable night, advanced to the 
grave while this operation was performing, and 
protesting if their heads were laid together there 
would be some mischief hatching, commanded 
them to be laid heads and points. This was ac- 
cordingly done, and in 1828, when the ground was 



16 

excavating for the erection of the Mossasoit Fac- 
tory, the bones of the unfortunate victims of king- 
ly power, of the poor wretches dragged from their 
families three thousand miles across the water to 
engage in a broil of which they probably knew 
nothing — werediscoveredlayingheadsand point?. 

" War is a game, that were their subjects wise 
Kings could not play at." 

The growth of Fall River from the period of the 
revolutionof the year 1812, must have been slow, 
and even since that, until 1822,* when there 
was butfour stores in the place, of any description, 
and not to exceed four hundred inhabitants- 
There is now about 100 shops and stores of vari- 
ous descriptions — but excepting two or three on 
the Tiverton side of the village, scarce any where 
spirituous liquors are retailed, and not a single 
distillery in the place. 

The roads north and south of the village, lead 
through a delightful country. The view of the 
island of Rhode-Island on the south one is beauti- 
ful, almost enchanting — while that leading to 
Taunton is scarcely less picturesque. On this road 
lies the little village of Assonet, where there is 
considerable commerce carried on. It is a singu- 
lar sight to see large vessels coming up to the very 
doors of the cottages, sheltered and shut in by the 
little woody point that encloses the tiny harbor — 
and music to hear the voices and loud laugh of nu- 
merous little urchins who are frequently seen 
playing on the hull of some old vessel on the strand. 
These fairy landscapes on the one hand, are 
strangely contrasted by the wildness and sterili- 
ty of that on the east, which resembles a newly 
settled country. The land lying between Fall 

♦ The third manufactory was erected in 1821, and two more in the ensuing 
year. At this period, 1833, a large and elegant one is going up. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 17 

River and New-Bedford, a distance of from sixteen 
to eighteen miles, is a perfect desert for the most 
part, being only diversified by bogs, rocky pas- 
tures and forests of scrub oak and vi^ild poplar. 
The village of Fall River perhaps owes much of 
its picturesque appearance to the rocks which are 
seen rising on all sides, some of the most finished 
buildings being nearly surrounded by rocks. 

It almost seems in the law of destiny that every 
place shall have something in its history to recom- 
mend it to the attention of mankind. 

In the countries of Europe, in every part of the 
old world, scarce a village or hamlet is past, where 
the attention of the traveller is not called to some 
circumstance of notoriety connected with the his- 
tory of the place, either it has been the birthplace 
of some hero, or statesman, or poetj renowned in 
ihe annals of the world, or the spot where some 
bloody battle has been fought that perhaps decided 
the fate of nations. Here was once the resort of 
banditti, and here once stood the monastery of 
some religious fanatics. Here was the cell of an 
anchorite,and here the home of unbounded luxury 
and unbridled licentiousness. Those ruins cover 
the springs once so celebrated in history where the 
beauty and fashion of centuries long gone by re- 
sorted for health and pleasure, and drank from the 
fountains now hidden fathoms under ground. This 
place witnessed ages since, the vows of those cel- 
ebrated lovers, and this was the scene of a black 
iind midnight murder. Here dwelt the witches of 
yore, and here the sorcerers. Here was lighted the 
fires of the martyrs, and there, their persecutors 
breathed their last. Here wept an injured, banish- 
ed queen, and here a king abdicated his throne. 
In short, there is no end to the catalogue of events 
2* 



18 FALL RIVER, 

by which each place is consecrated in the memo- 
ry of man. 

In our happy coimtry,new to crime and unknown 
to greatness comparatively speaking, there is lit- 
tle of this kind of distinction known. It is suffi- 
cient that the thriving city exhibits the appearance 
of industry and application and enterprise, that 
the rural landscape teems with sights and sounds 
of human happiness, that it is clothed with the 
flowers of spring, the verdure of summer, and the 
fullness of autumn. The unenvied distinctions 
conferred by the monuments of former greatness 
and vengeful crimes, we desire to leave to our old- 
er neighbors. Yet even in this our new and favor- 
ed country, crime is sometimes known. The pri- 
meval curse which extends over the whole earth, 
has not left our plains and vallies without some 
demonstrations of its universality. " The blood of 
man, slain by his brother man, has at intervals 
stained the soil where peace and purity were wont 
to dwell, and the cry of murder, borne on the mid- 
night blast, has sometimes been heard, even in 
someof the most secluded parts of happy America. 
The traveller in future ages, as he wends his way 
through the delightful village we have been de- 
scribing, shall point to the lowly grave on the side 
of yonder hill, and say " even here, has the curse 
been felt — even here, has murder stalked abroad, 
amidst scenes of nature's loveliness, calculated to 
warm the coldest heart with gratitude towards that 
good and glorious Being who clothes the fields in 
plenty and bids the landscape smile, has the assas- 
sin lurked, here plotted the direst deed of darkness, 
here executed a scheme of cruelty which the 
savages of our western woods might have shrunk 
from." Here at this lonely grave, whose plain and 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 19 

unobtrusive stone just tells the name and age of a 
female, cut off in the prime of her days — and tells 
no more — shall the young- and the beautiful read 
the warning against the wiles of man, here try 
while recounting the sad story of her who sleeps 
beneath to fortify each other against the encroach- 
ments of vice, especially of that which captivates 
under the mask of love. Here the prudent mother 
shall bring her lovely daughters to read those les- 
sons of prudence and caution, which of all other 
lessons the youthful heart is most apt to revolt at, 
the youthful mind to forget. And pointing to this 
place, the drunkard, the swearer, the Sabbath 
breaker, the gambler, and even the highway rob- 
ber, shall exclaim, " that grave attests that mon- 
sters have lived worse than me !" On yonder slope 
where nature has spread her richest carpet of al- 
most perpetual verdure, and where the quiet of 
the scene might seem to speak of sweet repose 
and heavenly contemplation, a deed of darkness 
has been perpetrated, at which even such might 
have revolted. But this is digression, and we 
hasten on to the story. 



CHAPTER II. 

About half a mile from the centre of the village 
of Fall River, in a southerly direction, on the di- 
rect road to Rowland's Ferry and rather remote 
from any other dwelling, there is a large old fash- 
ioned farm house belonging to a family by the 
name of Durfee. The land descends from here to- 
wards the bay with a gentle slope, and is probably 
about 150 or 200 rods to the water. The house 
stands in the State of Rhode Island, and near the 
line that marks the boundaries of the two states. 



20 

Proceeding from here towards the village you en- 
ter the suburbs of Fall River. In the State of 
Massachusetts in about a quarter of a mile dis- 
tance, within a short distance from this line on the 
Mass. side is the residence of a physician esteemed 
in his profession as well as in his private life, of 
unaffected manners, and unassuming deportment. 
His appearance is the very epitome of plain old 
fashioned Republican simplicity ; there is a de- 
gree of frankness and benevolence expressed in 
his countenance that at once secures the confi- 
dence, even of strangers. 

It was on the evening of the 8th Oct. 1832, that 
the Doctor was summoned to the parlor to see a 
lady who desired to speak with him. This circum- 
stance to a physician was nothing extraordinary, 
and therefore it was without any feelings of curi- 
osity or awakened attention that the doctor obey- 
ed the summons : he perceived a young woman 
very plainly habited and of most dejected appear- 
ance : her age he judged might be about 28, and 
her countenance bespoke the possession of beau- 
ty in happier days — but it was now clouded with 
care and shaded with grief, and as she arose to 
address the doctor upon his entrance, the air of ex- 
treme dejection that she wore, caught his eye, and 
in a moment interested him in behalf of the un- 
known sufferer. He begged her to be seated: while 
drawing a chair opposite, he endeavoured to pe- 
netrate so deep a grief and ascertain the cause of 
this visit. " She had come she said to consult him 
on the subject of her health. She had not been 
well for some time, and washed to ascertain with 
certainty the nature of her disease." 

The doctor desired her to mention her symp- 
toms. She did so. Not havinfr the slightest recol- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 21 

lection of seeing Iier before, he inquired, was she 
a stranger here ? "Not exactly ; she had been em- 
ployed to weave in one of the cotton manufacto- 
ries for some time past." " Her work probably 
disagreed with her : had she been used to such em- 
ployment ?" Yes, for several years. " Would she 
be so good as to state her symptoms o«ce more ?" 
she did so, with a faltering voice, and changing 
cheek. The doctor rose, took a turn or two across 
the room, and again seating himself opposite, ask- 
ed the question, "Are you married, madam ?" 

" No sir," said the young woman faintly. A 
long pause ensued. 

" If you were a married woman I should be apt 
to tell you what I thought, but as it is I scarcely 
know what to say, except it is my opinion you will 
not be able to work in the factory much longer." 
The miserable young woman clasped her hands 
together and wept profusely. 

",Can you speak with certainty, sir, as respects 
my case ?" " I cannot, said the doctor, nor no oth- 
er person with certainty. I only give my opinion, 
grounded upon the facts you have stated with re- 
spect to your ill health, and I may add your too 
evident distress bespeaks you to have been the 
prey of a villain ; but has not the person who has 
thus entailed misfortune upon you, the power to 
take you from the hardships of a factory and place 
you in a comfortable situation, until you can again 
resume your employment with safely to yourself?" 

" I am afraid he would not be willing to do so." 

" Not be willing ! then he must be a very base 
man. It certainly is in his place to do so. Who 
is he ?" no answer but tears. 

" Can you not tell me his name ?" 

" I cannot, I dare not," said she at last, burst- 
ing into a fresh flood of tears. 



22 

" Have you no connexions in tliis place young 
woman f ' demanded the doctor. 

" None, sir, except religious connexions." 

" Then you are a member of some religious so- 
€iety — of which ?" 

" Of the Methodist, sir." 

" Well your case is certainly a very peculiar 
and a very distressing one, but I can see no reason 
why you cannot tell who this person is — this man 
who has led you into this trouble — there seems to 
be some great mystery about it, which I am desi- 
rous of unravelling. Perhaps I can advise you to 
some safe course, and if I am to be your physician 
I insist upon knowing before I give you any fur- 
ther advice, and if it is in my power to befriend 
you in any way I should certainly do so. It was 
not until many apparent struggles with herself, 
much persuasion, solemn injunctions to secresy, 
and finally a promise on the part of the doctor not 
to expose the name, that she at length reluctantly 
disclosed it ; and great was the doctor's astonish- 
ment indeed when she named a preacher of the 
gospel as her betrayer — a Methodist minister !" 

"Monstrous!" said the appalled physician, "and 
does he preach now ?" " Yes sir, in Bristol, 
next town to this." 

" But how, where, which way, could a minister 
of the gospel contrive to insult one of his flock ? 
Where young woman, I must ask, has your inter- 
views taken place ?" 

"Our interview', sir, was at the late Camp Meet- 
ing in Thompson, Ct. It was unsought by me for 
any such purpose, but I trusted myself with him in 
a lonely place, and he acted a treacherous part." 

"Amazing," exclaimed the doctor, "under the 
mask of religion too ! well young woman it is use- 



AN AUTHE^TIC NARKATIVE. 23 

less to mourn over what is past and cannot now be 
mended. Your business must now be to take care 
of yourself — and there is as I conceive one straight 
forward course for you to pursue. Such a man 
deserves to be exposed. It is a duty you owe 
not only to yourself but to the public to expose 
the man. It is outrageous that such a man should 
continue to deceive the public. I would therefore 
if I were you boldly go forward and expose him to 
the world, and compel him by law to do me jus- 
tice. You would certainly be doing society a 
service to unmask such a person." 

" Oh I cannot, I cannot sir, indeed," said the 
young woman, with a shudder. " 1 cannot consent 
to bring such disgrace and trouble upon the church 
and upon his innocent family too. He has a wor- 
thy woman for a wife, and she and all his innocent 
children must be disgraced if he is exposed." 

" Well, I know not what to advise you, young 
woman, if you are averse to this course. There 
is but one other way to obtain redress — and that 
is by threatening him. You must at all events be 
provided for before long, and the best way is in 
case you do not expose him, to threaten to do so 
unless he settles handsomely with you, and ena- 
bles you to leave the factory until after the termi- 
nation of this unhappy affair. To this the young 
woman assented, and saying she would call again, 
after writing to him, withdrew." 

The image of this afflicted and unhappy person 
could not momently be erased from the mind of 
the doctor. The circumstance of itself was calcu- 
lated to interest, and the sufferer, though not very 
handsome, was certainly a very interesting per- 
son. It was not long though before she called 
again, and the subject of her second communication 



24 FALL RlVERj 

was certainly not less interesting than the first. 
She came now she said to ask advice as a friend. 
She had recently received a letter from Mr Avery 
requesting her to come to Bristol and sec him 
there — that he had appointed a time and place, 
and seemed anxious for the interview. She stated 
also, she had received another letter from Provi- 
dence, during the four days meeting. 

The doctor again advised her to compel Avery 
to a settlement, and she asked what she had better 
say to him. He observed that she ought at leaslt to 
demand three hundred dollars and he had no doubt 
Avery would think himself wtll off to come off so. 

" Why," said she, "he is not able to give such a 
sum ; the Methodist ministers are poor — all poor. 
They are very iJly paid for their services, and I 
doubt his power to make up such a sum, besides I 
should not dare to name so much for fear he would 
think I had told some one." And she seemed to 
be in considerable terror at the idea that he should 
suspect he had been exposed to any one. She then 
informed the doctor that she had a short interview 
with him at Fall River, where she met him on the 
meeting-house steps, and walked away with him, 
and that he wished her to take a medicine that he 
recommended, in order to prevent future trouble 
and expense, and at once obliterate the effects of 
their connexion. The doctorinquired whatit was, 
and was shocked and surprised to learn it was one 
of such deadly effect that she would probably have 
expired on the spot had she taken it. The drug 
referedto was the oil of tansy, one of the most vio- 
lent things ever used, and never given except in 
very small quantities, and under the direction of a 
physician. Comprehending as he now thought a 
little of the plot, he advised her against a private 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 25 

interview with Avery, and begged her by no means 
to go to Bristol and give him the private interview 
he requested, nor to take any medicine of his pre- 
scription, telling her the one recommended would 
probably have killed her on the spot, if not, it 
would have utterly destroyed her health forever.* 
The girl seemed shocked, but could not seem to 
believe her betrayer had designs on her life. The 
doctor observed if she meant to do any thing of 
thatsort she must apply to another physician. She 
however avowed her determination to take no- 
thing,but bear as she said, the whole shame and dis- 
grace of it herself, " and take care of her child as 
well as she was able." The doctor commended 
her in this resolution, and told her it was his duty 
to come to her, not hers to go to him, and to have 
him by all means come to Fall River, and meet him 
in some suitable place, where they could talk it 
over and make some settlement with him, that was 
in case she had still resolved not to expose him 
publicly. This she seemed resolved not to do, 
and spake again of the distress such a disclosure 
would bring upon his family, and mentioned the 
agitation the first disclosure of her situation had 
caused him. He protested to her afterwards that 
he passed the " most wretched night that night he 
had ever done, having scarcely closed his eyes.^^ 
Much more conversation occurred of the same de- 
scription, accompanied by many tears, which the 
doctor observed she always shed when conversing 
on that subject ; and thanking him for his kindness 
she withdrew, leaving an impression of pity and 
admiration upon the mind of the good physician, I 
that one so feelingly alive to sentiments of virtue s/ 

* Thirty drops, she said he told her to take at once , Four drops is considered 
a large dose. 



26 FALL RIVER, 

and propriety should have fallen into such a snare. 
She had, between these interviews mentioned, call- 
ed for medicine to take, such as her health requir- 
ed, and the doctor observed he never saw her with- 
out shedding tears and betraying most painful feel- 
ings with respect to her situation, although she 
was calm, and seemed to have resigned herself to 
the event. 

A few weeks only elapsed since the last visit of 
Miss Cornell,during which the doctor often thought 
of her, and wondered how she was likely to settle 
the difficulty wdth her seducer as he termed him, 
for so perfectly modest and proper was her deport- 
ment that he could on no account harbor an opin- 
ion, but that she had been artfully led from the 
paths of virtue, by one in whom it was perfectly 
natural she should place the utmost confidence. 
He looked upon her as one of the most unfortunate 
of women, but could not despise her as he might 
have done in other circumstances. 

It was on a cold frosty morning, the 21st Dec. 
that the doctor observed some people running up 
the street, apparently in great haste ; he stood at 
the window watching when they should return, to 
know what the matter was ; but no body came 
back, while another and another party followed 
close upon the heels of the former. The women 
appeared to be horror struck as they collected in 
groups at the doors or in the streets, and many 
leaving their families just as they were, (it was 
about breakfast time) and hastily throwing some- 
thing over them pushed on in the direction of Dur- 
fee's farm. Presently some one came running into 
the doctor's saying a young women had just hung 
herself up at Durfee's. The doctor stopped to ask 
no more, biit catching his hat, ran up to the farm,, 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 27 

without however having the least suspicion who it 
was. Upon gaining a stack yard some fifty rods 
south of the house, he perceived a female lying on 
the ground, for they had taken her down. She lay 
with her cloak, gloves and calash on, and her arms 
drawn under her cloak. 

" Does any one know her ?" asked one. " She 
is well dressed," said another, '* I think she must 
be somebody respectable." *' Yes I know her," 
said the Methodist minister who had arrived on the 
grr>imd a little previous to the doctor — " she is a 
respectable young woman, and a member of my 
church." 

Just then the physician reached the yard, and 
hastily lifting the profusion of dark locks that had 
fallen entirely over her face, he discovered with 
grief and astonishment the countenance of his late 
interesting patient. Horror struck, he endeavored 
to loosen the cord from her neck ; it was nearly 
half an inch imbedded in the flesh. But alas! there 
was nothing in the usual remedies to produce re- 
susitation that would have availed any thing here, 
for the young woman appeared to have been there 
all night and was frozen stiff. And is this the end 
of the sorrows, poor unfortunate! thought the kind 
physician, as bending over the helpless victim of 
unhallowed passion. He gazed upon that altered 
countenance — altered it was indeed — it was livid 
pale, — her tongue protruded through her teeth — 
pushed out her under lip,that was very much swol- 
len as though it had received some hard blow, or 
been severely bit in anguish, gave a dreadful ex- 
pression of agony, while a deep indentation on the 
cheek looked as though that too must have been 
pressed by some hard substance ; but whatever he 
thought at that time respecting the means by which 



28 FALL RIVER, 

she came to her death, he wisely forbore to utter 
it, and the jury of inquest was summoned in im- 
mediately.* In the mean time the respectable 
farmer on whose premises the deceased was found, 
after having her carefully conveyed to the house, 
inquired of the Methodist minister if she had any 
friends in the place, and if not whether the society 
of which he said she was a respectable member 
would not see to the expense of her funeral. That 
person replied that he did not exactly know their 
rules in such cases, but he would go and consTilt 
them and return soon and inform them. Mean- 
while the truth struggled hard in the breast of the 
doctor. He had felt himself bound to secrecy in 
case the girl had lived, respecting the name of her 
betrayer, but her death and the awful manner of it 
impelled him to reveal what he believed to be the 
cause. He felt that death had taken off the injunc- 
tion of secrecy; and stepping after the clergyman, 
he related the confession of the unhappy girl to 
him, and what she had said respecting his brother 
Avery. In what language he expressed himself, 
or whether he gave way to the feelings of indigna- 
tion which the knowledge of such a transaction 
was calculated to awaken, is not known, but the 
reverend listener was at once roused to defend 
him, and express his full belief that his brother was 
perfectly innocent, and finally asserted " that the 
deceased was a very bad character, and that Avery 
had told him so, and warned him against her, and 
that she was not in full communion with the meet- 

* Her countenance was exceedingly distorted, and there was not only an ex- 
pression of anguish upon it, but one of horror and affright, combined with an 
angry frown. " That terrible look," said the doctor, ''was present with me 
for months, and often in the dead of night has appeared to my imagination with 
sueh force as to awake me. and I can scarcely think of it now without a chill.— 
That look never was seen on the countenance of a person who did not die by vio- 
lence." He expressed his amazement that among all that was said in Court that 
circumstance was not attested. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 29 

ing but only received upon probation." Very 
shortly he returned to the house of Mr. Durfee, 
and said that " the deceased was a bad character 
and the meeting would have nothing to do with 
burying her." 

Of course Mr. Durfee's astonishmerii; was very 
great,having just before heard the Rev. gentleman 
say " she was a respectable woman and a member 
of their society." But nothing influenced the hon- 
est and benevolent farmer to omit his own duty, 
and deny the right of burial to the poor unhappy 
girl whose remains Providence seemd in a pecu- 
liar manner to have confided to his care. 

" She shall have a burial place in my grounds," 
said he, " near my family, and as respectable a 
funeral as anybody,and as respectable a clergyman 
as any other to make the prayer, and every thing 
that is necessary and decent shall be attended to. 
And without any fear of contamination, from the 
neighborhood of one whom the clergyman chose 
to denominate a vile character, he gave orders to 
have a grave prepared for her near his own family. 

In the mean time a hasty and irregular jury had 
been selected and sitting upon the question, and 
after a very superficial observation, and no exami- 
nation whatever of her person, brought in a ver- 
dict of "suicide.". The corpse was then delivered 
into the hands of five or six of some of the most 
respectable matrons of the village who had vol- 
unteered to perform this office of benevolence 
towards the hapless stranger. 

They commenced this work with mournful re- 
flections upon the subject of sclf^murder,and some 
expressions of pity towards her whose hard for- 
tune some way or other must have driven her to 
so rash and daring an act, for that she died othcr- 
3^ 



30 FALL RIVER, 

wise than by her own hand never entered the 
heads of either of the good women. But what was 
their astonishment when stripping the body for the 
purpose of arraying it for the grave they discover- 
ed marks of violence about her person. " Oh said 
one of the oldest of the ladies who they called aunt 
Hannah, whathas been done?" the person address- 
ed answered "rash violence." Just above each hip 
were marks of hands, the bruises of which were 
very bad, so that the spots of the thumb inwards, 
and the fingers outside were distinctly visible, they 
were thjse of a large hand, for one or two of the 
women applied theirs and they were not large 
enough to cover the marks : one only, the person 
they called aunt Hannah, found her hand to fit : 
there were bad bruises on the back, and the knees 
scratched and stained with grass as though ihey 
had been on the ground during some struggle : 
spots below the knee where the skin was rubbed 
off and bad bruises on the back ; the right arm was 
bent up and the hand turned back, and it was with 
much difficulty the females could bring it down, af- 
ter fomenting it for some time with warm water, 
and when they succeeded in bending it down it 
snapt so that they thought it must have been brok- 
en : appearance of a blow on the under lip, which 
was much swollen, and the tongue projected out a 
little. Still those women said but little, except a 
few whispers among themselves : in fact the time 
was too short for much talking. The body was not 
laid out until past noon on the day she was found, 
and she was buried at 1 o'clock on the next day. 
One most startling circumstance however occurred 
to arouse the attention and petrify the blood of the 
spectators. 

Mr. Durfee, the farmer who found the deceased, 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVK. 31 

took his vvagon(short]y after the verdict of the jury 
of inquest) and proceeded to the house where she 
had boarded, after ler things, the object of this was 
to find something suitable for grave clothes, and if 
possible to ascertain by some letters or something 
of that kind where the friends of this poor girl, if 
she had any, were to be found. He found a trunk, 
locked, and a bandbox of clothes, &;c. which he 
took, and returned about noon. The key of the 
trunk was found in the pocket of the deceased, in 
presence of a number of persons. The trunk was 
examined, and four letters found in the bottom of it. 
One was addressed to the Rev. ]\Ir. Bidwellof Fall 
River, her minister, written by herself. The other 
three were anonymous, but directed on the outside 
to Sarah M. Connell, Fall River. Near the middle 
of the bandbox lay a small piece of soiled paper 
and a lead pencil. Mr. Durfee did not open the 
little piece of paper or think of its being of any 
consequence whatever. Two of the women, on 
rummaging the bandbox late in the afternoon, in 
hopes by some means to discover where to direct 
a letter to her friends, chanced to observe this 
very piece of paper, which, though very small, soil- 
ed and looking like waste paper,they unfolded and 
read. It contained these words — ■" If I am missing 
enquire of the Rev. E. K. Avery. S. M. C." 

There was a great many persons in the house, 
and constantly going and coming, and although 
the women talked much about it and shew it to 
others in the house, one of whom was the wife of 
the congregational clergyman, invited to make the 
prayer, yet it was not seen by the muster of the 
house until next morning. His thoughts upon read- 
ing it may easily be discerned. The hour of the 
ii.neral however drew near and active duties pre- 



32 

vented mucli time from being spent in debate. 
The resolution however of Mr. Durfee and some 
others to have the matter investigated, seemd to 
have been taken. A crowd gathered early to the 
house, and solemn and appropriate prayer was 
made by the congregational minister, the Rev. Mr. 
Fovv^ler, and, followed by a numerous procession, 
the remains of the unfortunate and mysterious 
stranger were conveyed to the grave. Providence 
however had determined that though consigned to 
the grave it should not be to present repose. A 
storm was gathering which was destined not only 
to call forth the dead from her grave, but to shake 
the society to which she belonged to its centre — 
a storm whose effects have continued to be felt 
ever since — a contention which has embittered 
many former friends against each other, created 
many heart-burnings, assailed the peace of fami- 
lies, hindered the christian missionary in the ex- 
ercise of his pious duties, caused the name of Christ 
to be blasphemed, and in some places almost de- 
populated churches. 



CHAPTER III. 

Although consigned to her grave, the image of 
the murdered maid (for murdered he now no long- 
er doubted she was) continued to haunt the pillow 
of Mr. Durfee, and he rose on the following day 
determined to investigate the dark mystery which 
hung over her fate. A circumstance occurred on 
this morning to materially increase the evidence 
of the murder of the young woman. A man in the 
neighbourhood, (Thomas Hart,) while walking 
near the scene of the sad catastrophe, found about 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 33 

thirty rods from the place, in the direction towards 
Fall River, a piece of a comb, which upon being 
shown to the woman where the deceased boarded, 
was identified as hers. It was also known by the 
jeweller who had mended it for her a short time 
before, by the rivetting, which was peculiar. This 
piece of comb, evidently broken in a struggle, was 
carried by Mr. Hart to Mr. Durfee. That gentle- 
man took it, and with that and the piece of paper 
found in the bandbox, waited on the coroner.* 
The case seemed to call loudly for examination, 
and the coroner ordered thebodydisinterredonthe 
following day, and called a new jury. Three of the 
principal physicians and surgeons of the place ex- 
amined the person of the deceased, that is the ex- 
ternal bruises, and ascertained she had told no 
falsehood with respect to her situation. From the 
state of the lungs it appeared she died of suffoca- 
tion, and from the mark of the rope around her 
neck, that she could not have died by hanging, but 
by the drawing of the cord, which had been drawn 
so tight as to strangle, and must have been so be- 
fore suspension from the stake, as the knot they all 
deposed was not a slip knot, but what is called a 
clove hitch, and could not have been drawn but by 
pulling the two ends separately. Various other 

* The first part of the comb was found some rods from the place, while she lay 
near the stack, after they had taken her down, and the man who found it 
brought it and laid it on her cloak. They did not then know but she wore a 
broken piece in her hair, until after its fellow was found. Some way further 
off, on the lonely path leading round the corner of the wall towards Fall River, 
s'le wasbaried with tie first piece in her hair, and when disinterred it was taken 
out and compared with the remaining- piece found, and they fitted, and both parts 
were then identified. It was singular that the pocket handkerchief of the deceas- 
ed, found near her wound up in a hard bunch and wet through and through, 
should have been so little thought of at the time. By soaking it in cold water it 
would have been ascertained it was wet with saliva, but they did not think of this 
test at the time, though it was afterwards believed to have been used to stop her 
mouth by some person wh» murdered her. Doctor Wilbour remarked that the 
cloak showed marks of tears, which combined with the discharge from the nose 
appeared to have been very plentifully shed and ran down on each side of her 
cloak. He has even r xpressed his hope "that they might have been tearsof peni- 
tence as well as anguiali, shed when she found the fangs of the murderer were 
upon her, and she was about to appear in the presence of her God." 



34 FALL RIVER, 

circumstances now for the first time detailed, were 
related, such as the deceased being found with her 
cloak hooked down before and her hands under it, 
her knees within four inches of the ground, and her 
clothes smooth under them, and moreover as it 
was known that when the neck is not broken by 
hanging, and hers was not, there is a great strug- 
gle in death, and there was not on the ground be- 
neath the least signs of any. On the contrary, her 
feet were quite close together, her clothes stand- 
ing off from her behind as far as they would reach, 
and smooth under her. And lastly, and most ex- 
traordinary of all, her gloves on her hands, with- 
out any marks of a rope or any thing of the kind 
upon them, although the rope must have been 
drawn with great strength by two hands before it 
was tied to the stake. 

With all these proofs before them it was not sur- 
prising their verdict should be " murder." It was 
true suspicion pointed at Avery before, but the sup- 
posed sanctity of his character shut the mouths of 
many who but for that and his profession would 
have been ready to exclaim " thou art the man." 

Although Mr. Durfee and others were thus alone 
in acting, it must not be supposed that circumstan- 
ces of the nature just described could be concealed. 
They were not ; and the inhabitants of Fall River 
on the Massachusetts side (where they do business 
offhand, and not quite so clumsily as in Rhode-Isl- 
and) having heard from the first the circumstances 
of suspicion that had been developed, became very 
much amazed at the slowness of enquiry respect- 
ing such a horrible transaction ; and feeling them- 
selves rather scandalized, as a place, although the 
matter did not come under their immediate cog- 
nizance, at length began to take active, measures 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 35 

in relation to it. All day Sunday there was a sort 
of half stifled hum heard through the village. The 
bells as usual called people to public worship, but 
not as usual was the solemnity of it regarded by 
the great mass of the people. Many, to be sure, 
went to meeting ; but many did not appear to hear 
after they got there. Some thought ministers were 
such wicked creatures, they did not want to hear 
them ; and some too just to condemn all, for the 
sins of one, endeavoured to listen with reverence, 
while their thoughts, in spite of themselves, would 
wander after him, who in their mind was guilty of 
this foul deed, and at this very time calling sinners 
to repentance. 

Oh you ! upon whom the authorities of the 
church, and the partiality of man, have conferred 
the envied distinction of speaking in your Master's 
cause, of being ambassadors for the greatest and 
highest of potentates, how great is your responsi- 
bility! a stain upon that spotless garment who shall 
wash away ? If you are defiled by abominations, 
the destruction of your own souls is the least evil 
of which you are the cause. 

All day, little knots of citizens were seen gather- 
ing at the corners of the streets, and even at the 
meeting-house doors, discussing the subject of the 
murder, though in an under tone of voice. Upon 
separatingjthey were invariably observed to shake 
their heads and walk away sorrowful. No active 
measures were, however, taken until morning ; 
when a few citizens met in the street, and agreed 
upon having a meeting at the Lyceum Hall. A 
boy was sent about the streets with a bell, to noti- 
fy the people to assemble, and very soon after the 
hall was filled to overflowing. Upon motion, a 
committee, consisting of five gentlemen, some of 



36 

the most respectable persons in the place, was 
appointed ; who were directed to "meet the Coro- 
ner and jury of inquest, who, it was understood, 
were that morning to be in session, and disinter 
the body for further examination ; and if, upon ex- 
amination, they should believe a murder had been 
committed, and upon having the evidence that 
some person was implicated in the murder, they 
should proceed to aid and assist the authorities 
of Rhode-Island in having the subject properly 
investigated, and in prosecuting it to a final issue." 

At this meeting too, another and larger commit- 
tee was appointed to collect and report to the first 
named committee, "any evidence or circumstance 
that might come to their knowledge, having a 
bearing upon the case." It was resolved that the 
truth should, if possible, be elicited in this search ; 
and that they should report every thing of a 
favourable nature respecting the accused, as well 
as that which should appear unfavourable. Anoth- 
er meeting was subsequently held to make provis- 
ions for defraying the expenses of this committee. 

It is said by the friends of Avery often, that he 
gave a manifest proof of his innocence in remain- 
ing in Bristol till the warrant came, and not fleeing 
or shewing any difl*erence in his manners. The 
fact was, that he did not know any thing was sus- 
pected of him, except his being the seducer of the 
girl. Mr. Bidwell, to whom Doct. Wilbour had, 
as before mentioned, related the conversations of 
the deceased, had proceeded immediately to Bris- 
tol and communicated with Avery, and had stated 
to him he was suspected of being the betrayer of 
the helpless girl. Avery and his friends got Mr. 
Bartlett, the stage driver, and a Methodist by pro- 
fession, to go to Fall River and see how matters 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 37 

stood. In tha mean time, Avery kept his house, 
walking it, as was said, in a state of very great 
agitation. He did no preaching that day. Bartlett 
proceeded to Fall River, and went in search of 
Doct. Wilbour, who was from home, visiting a pa- 
tient. He followed him, and met him returning 
not far from his house, which they entered toge- 
ther. Upon going into the house, the Doctor per- 
ceived J. Durfee and another man from Tiverton 
waiting for him. Aiding Bartlett into the parlour, 
he went out to see them. They informed the Doc- 
tor that the warrant they had got was informal; 
and that it had been decided to apprehend Avery, 
and they requested him to go over the lina and 
complain of him. This the Doctor refused to do, 
because.he thought it was not his business; "but," 
observed he, '* if he is not apprehended soon, he 
will be oft". Here is Bartlett in the other room now 
come to see how the business stands ; and he will 
not get out of the place without finding out he is 
suspected of the murder." One of the gentlemen 
then proposed they should proceed immediately to 
Bristol, and have him put under arrest until the 
succeeding day, when a proper warrant could be 
procured ; and begging the Doctor to keep Bartlett 
as long as possible, they departed, and in a few mo- 
ments were on the way to Bristol. In the mean 
time, the Doctor apologized for delaying conversa- 
tion until he had dined, after which he recounted, 
the particulars of his conversation with the deceas- 
ed to his interrogator,and concluded with the ques- 
tion, "and do you know that he is suspected of the 
murder too ?" Amazed, the messenger answerd, 
"no!" upon which the Doctor assured him of the 
fact. Of course, he did not wait long after this, but 
hastened to convey the alarming intelligence to his 
4 



38 FALL RIVER, 

employer. However, long before his arrival at 
Bristol, his friend and brother was under arrest. 

It seems scarcely possible Avery could have 
refrained from preaching on that day merely from 
delicacy, because he had heard 'it was suspected 
he was the betrayer of the deceased girl, when he 
thus perseveres in it at the present day. However, 
Bartlett stated he was then very much disturbed 
and distressed in mind indeed, and that " he did 
not know when he had been kept from the house 
of God before." 

Nothing was done hastily ; the jury of inquest 
were very slow in iheir operations ; and it was not 
until several days after the murder that Avery was 
arrested ; and he probably might have escaped 
even that, had not new circumstances continually 
come up calculated to strengthen former suspi- 
cions. For instance, the other piece of the broken 
comb was found on the same back route to Fall 
River ; fitted the first piece with which she was 
buried, and both were sworn to and identified as 
her's by the person who mended it and the people 
where she boarded, who, with the persons who 
worked next to her in the factory, deposed that she 
went out about six in the evening with it whole : 
changed her dress for one better ; went in good 
spirits, and was exceedingly anxious to get leave 
to go out at the hour of six : had spoken of an ap- 
pointment several days before to the daughter of 
the lady where she boarded; said she "did not care 
how many days it rained, if it was only fair on that 
day," 20th of December; shewed the pink and yel- 
low letter which were afterwards found in her 
trunk to this young lady, who identified them ; the 
white one also, with which she returned from the 
Post Office, on the 8th of December. The lady did 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 39 

not read the inside, but looked at the post marks 
and hand writing and was able to testify to them. 

Those letters corroborated the statement made 
by Doct. Wilboiir. The first of these letters, 
written on yellow paper, was dated, Nov. 13th, 
1832, and was as follows : 

" I have just received your letter with no small 
surprise, and will say, I will do all you ask, only 
keep your secrets. 1 wish you to write me as soon 
as you get this, naming some time and place where 
I shall see you, and then look for answer before I 
come ; and will say whether convenient or not, 
and will say the time. I will keep your letters till 
I see you, and M'ish you to keep mine, and have 
them with you there at the time. Write soon — 
say nothing to no one. Yours in haste." 

They observed that he says, "I have just receiv- 
ed yours ;" and upon examining at the Post Office, 
Fall River, it was found there was one letter mail- 
ed for Bristol on the day preceding that address- 
ed to S. M. Cornell, viz. on the 12th. But who it 
was for had escaped their recollection, if they ob- 
served at the time. Again, there was a letter on 
pink paper, addressed to the deceased, which Mr. 
Orswell, the engineer of the King Philip, (a steam- 
boat plying between Fall River and Providence) 
deposed was given him by Avery, in person, to 
deliver to Sarah Maria Cornell, near the last of 
November, while the four days meeting was hold- 
ing " among the Methodists at Providence. This 
letter too appeared to be in answer to one written 
not long before ; and on the 19th of November the 
Post Master recollected that on that day, while 
making up the mail, he heard something drop into 
the letter box after he had cleared it ; and upon 
looking, saw two letters, one for Bristol and one 



40 

directed to Mr. Rawson, brolher-in-law of the de- 
ceased, South Woodstock. This letter was after- 
wards produced by Mr. Ilawson. His impression 
was, the other was directed to Avery; remembered 
distinctly it was for Bristol : and as it was ascer- 
tained he was correct about the first name, the 
committee could have no doubt about the other. 

But so extremely cautious were they to go upon 
facts, that they delayed their proceedings until Ors- 
well went up the river and saw Avery, to ascertain 
to a certainty, whether he would recognize the 
man who gave him the letter for that person. This 
letter, the one mentioned when speaking of her 
communications, to Doct.Wilbour,was as follows. 

Providence, Nov. 1832. 

*'Dear Sister — I received your letter in due sea- 
son and should hare answered it before now but I 
thought I would wait till this opportunity — as I 
told yeu 1 am willing to help you and do for you 
as circumstances are I showld rather you would 
come to this place, viz Bristol on the 18th of Dec, 
and stop at the Hotel and stay till six in the even- 
ing and then go directly up across the main street 
to the brick building near to the stone meeting 
house where I will meet you and talk with you — 
when you come to the Tavern either enquire for 
work or go out in the street on pretence of looking 
for some or something else and I may see you — 
say nothing about me or my family — should it 
slorm on the 18th come on the 20th if you cannot 
come and it will be more convenient to meet me at 
the Methodist meeting house in Somersett just 
over t^e ferry on either of the above evenings I 
will meet you there at the same time or if you can- 
not do either I will come to Fall River on one of 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 41 

the above evenings back of the same meeting 
house where I once saw you — at any hour you say 
on either of the above evenings when there will be 
the least passing I should think before the mill 
stops work — this I will leave with you if I come 
will come if it does not storm very hard — if it does 
the first I will come the second write me soon and 
tell me which — when you write direct your letters 
to Betsy Hill and not as you have done to me re- 
memher this your last letter I am afraid was bro- 
ken open. 

ware your calash not your plain bonnet you can 
send your letter by mail Yours &c. B H 
S. M. C. 

let me still injoin the secret — keep the letters 
in your bosom or burn them up." 

The white letter found in her possession, mark- 
ed 04ie cent postage, was as follows : 

Fall River Dec 8th 
" I will be here on the 20th if pleasant at the 
place named at 6 o'clock if not pleasant the next 
monday eve. — say nothing." 

With respect to this last, final and fatal letter, 
upon examination, it was ascertained that Avery 
had been at Fall River on that very day ; had been 
heard asking for paper in a store kept by a mem- 
ber of the Methodist meeting ; and that that man 
went into the next store to get a wafer for him : 
could not recollect whether he wrote in the store, 
but remembered hearing him talk about writing to 
the editor of a paper in the village, (whom, upon 
enquiry, he did not write to.) From thence he 
went in the direction of the Post Office, and the 
deputy post master recollected, a few moments 
before the stage started for Bristol, in which he 
4* 



42 FALL RlVERj 

went, hearing a letter drop : and looking at the 
moment saw Avery just withdrawing his hand 
from the hox. He then looked, and took out the 
one cent letter addressed to S. M. Cornell, when 
the wafer was wet. That wafer was recollected as 
the one supplied by the lady next door to the store 
where the paper was supposed to be procured — 
remembered from its peculiar colour. 

The first letter, the yellow one, was post mark- 
ed at Warren; and on that day it was ascertained 
the accused had been there. 

The other letter was written by Sarah Maria 
herself, and directed to her minister, Mr. Bidwell- 
It expressed much compunction for her sins, con- 
fessed herself unworthy of a place in the meeting, 
and requested to Qe set aside as unworthy, &-e. 

With all these concurring circumstances before 
them, it is most evident the committee could not, 
in conscience, take any other course than the one 
they did take. Now previous to the arrest, when 
the suspicions of the murder were first excited at 
Fall River, his friends (Avery's) consoled them- 
selves with the assurance that Avery would be 
able to prove where he was at the time of the mur- 
der; and it being a very cold blustering day until 
towards night, they had little doubt it would be 
found he was at his own house. What then was 
their consternation to find, upon enquiry, that he 
had actually crossed the ferry, at Bristol, on the 
afternoon of that very day, and after being absent 
on the island until a very late hour in the evening 
had gone back to the ferry-house requesting to be 
set over, which Mr. Gifford, the ferryman, declin- 
ed doing on account of ihe lateness of the hour 
and tediousness of the weather. There had been 
a rough wind for most part of the day, and gener- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 43 

ally in that place tiiere is a considerable swell for 
some lime after. 

Still the friends of Mr. Avery kept up a good 
courage, for they felt morally certain that being in 
a methodist neighbourhood near so many friends 
and acquaintance he could easily be recognized, 
and would undoubtedly bring proof of where he 
was. But when after the examination at Bristol, 
it was found that he could not bring a single in- 
dividual M'ho even thought they saw him on the 
route he described himself to have taken, many 
who had trust in him before fell off. He observed 
he had been on a walk of pleasure and observa- 
tion, walking about the Island towards the coal 
mines, near the Union Meeting-house, &c. &c. 
past brother such a one and sister 'tother one, 
crossed a brook, went through a white gate, saw 
a " man with a gun, and a boy with some sheep," 
and finally wandered back to the ferry somewhere 
about ten o'clock, of a cold December night, with- 
out any supper or appearing to think of any ! 
(though travelling ministers are not apt to forget 
such accommodations.) No man with a gun, or 
boy with sheep, could be heard of in that part of 
the country from any body but him.self, and no 
one saw him, through all that route : nevertheless 
the justices appointed to examine him at Bristol, 
after what they declared to be a " patient, labori- 
ous and impartial examination of the subject," dis- 
charged him. The county of Newport claimed 
him as their prisoner in the first place, and it was 
not a legal examination, because the offence al- 
leged against him was perpetrated in that county. 
But his friends were determined to have his ex- 
amination there, and they had it. By this illegal 
and ill judged proceeding the State was put to the 



44 FALL RIVER, 

expense of another examination, besides some 
much more heavy ones. The inhabitants of Fall 
River calied another meeting and entered com- 
plaint to a magistrate in the county of Newport. 
A warrant was issued and a sheriff sent once more 
to take him. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Upon arriving at Bristol, the sheriff found the 
prisoner had lied. Thirteen days had been spent 
in his examination, during which time he appear- 
ed so firm and unmoved for the most part that it 
was thought there was no danger of his decamp- 
ing. He had fled however, and left his character 
to take care of itself. Those who believed him 
innocent, had thought he would court a trial in 
order to free himself from the odium attached to 
him, which unless wiped off they knew must for- 
ever destroy his usefulness as a minister of the 
gospel ; but when they found he had decamped and 
left his friends and partiz^ns to fight it out in the 
best manner they were able, they were confounded, 
but for the most part wise enough to keep still ; 
and had he never been found, as most people be- 
lieved he never would, it is probable the point 
would have been conceded. But he was gone : and 
Col. Harnden, the person who went in pursuit of 
him, was almost at a loss to know what to do. 
There seemed no trace of him to be discovered. 
But although the person of the accused appeared 
to be beyond their reach, his character was not ; 
and this flight, disgraceful and unmanly as it was, 
put the finishing seal to it. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 45 

Matters seemed so well arranged with respect 
to the reverend fugitive, that it would have puz- 
zled wise heads to have known which way to look 
for him. But the indefatigable Col. Harnden was 
not to be daunted or disheartened in the cause he 
had undertaken. He had been one of the commit- 
tee appointed to examine into this affair by the in- 
habitants of Fall River, and had satisfied himself 
that the accused ought at whatever cost to be 
brought to trial. He therefore commenced a most 
laborious and arduous search, and after traversing 
hundreds of miles backwards and forwards, in 
three States, having as he believed got on a track 
of him, he finally succeeded in his search, finding 
him in a remote neighborhood in New-Hampshire, 
at the house of a Mr, Mayo. He was indebted at 
last to the sagacity of a baker's boy, who related 
a story of Mrs. Mayo being accused of some mis- 
demeanor in the meeting, and Avery being sent 
for to plead her off, which he succeeded in doing, 
and saved her from the censures of the meeting — 
an evil of no ordinary character, if we may judge 
from the manner of handling the character of the 
deceased — and the lad thinking according to the 
old saying that one good turn deserved another, 
thought it must be he was concealed at that house. 
Upon arriving at the house, Mr. Mayo denied his 
being there, but observing his wife glide out of the 
room, Mr. Harnden followed her, and found Avery 
hid, pale and tremibling behind th^ door of a cham- 
ber, evidently fitted up for his concealment, having 
the windows completely darkened, with lights and 
fire wood laid in, and all the comforts of life in 
abundance bore witness to the gratitude of her who 
held him in such gentle durance : pity that such 
comfortable quarters should Itave been disturbed 



46 FALL RIVER, 

by the intrusion of such an unwelcome guest. Mr. 
Harnden returned with him through Boston, 
where, as in several other places, he, like other 
great characters, received the calls of his friends, 
the Methodists : Divines and all flocking to pay 
their respects — giving him the right hand of fel- 
lowship, &c. and having several " comfortable 
seasons of prayer," <fcc.* with a man then laboring 
under the strongest presumption of being both an 
adulterer and murderer — of a man caught in the 
very act of hiding himself from the ministers of 
justice. " O tempora ! O mores !" 

The authorities of the county of Newport, after 
examination, bound him for trial and he was in- 
dicted for murder b}^ the grand jury, and the first 
Monday in May assigned for his trial. The inter- 
val between the March term of the Supreme Judi- 
cial Court for the county of Newport, and the first 
Monday in May, was a busy one ; scouts were out 
in all directions, and oh the racing and chasing 
there was to look up witnesses. Turnpike cor- 
porations and tavern keepers reaped a golden har- 
vest during those two months. There was scarce- 
ly a factory village within a hundred and fifty 
miles but what underwent a thorough examination. 
The deceased it appeared, had been a moving 
planet, which she accounted for in one of her let- 
ters to her friends, by saying, " she belonged to a 
people who did not believe in staying long in a 
place." She seemed to have adopted for her mot- 
to, the text, that " here we have no continuing 
city ;" and she adhered to it in the spirit and the 
letter. Poor unfortunate being ! she did not real- 
ize the danger of changing neighborhoods so of- 

* Who can wonder that infidels should he strengthened by such things as 
these? what a farce does even christian worship appear wheu prostituted to 
secular purposes. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 47 

ten, nor know that it was safest for people to stay- 
where they are best known, and where slanderers 
make out to live upon one old story for a thousand 
years, but transport it into a new neighborhood 
and ten thousand will immediately be added to it. 
She probably had never read that admirable fable 
of the Fox, who Avas advised to remove on account 
of the swarm of flies who beset him, and who wise- 
ly chose to remain where they might after a time 
get gorged with his blood, rather than to encoun- 
ter a fresh "«end hungry set, when he should be 
robbed of every remaining drop of it. 

In the mean time public indignation could not 
wait with patience for the issue of the trial, and 
from time to time it would speak out through the 
medium of the papers. This the methodists ter- 
med " persecution," whatever it was it is certain 
that much of it was provoked by their own im- 
prudence in continually and loudly asserting his 
innocence, and the violence with which they en- 
deavored to bear down public opinion, as well as 
their ridiculous fidgetting about the safety of his 
person, and his personal accommodation, through 
all the stages of his travels. Had Avery constitu- 
ted solely in his person the palladium of their 
rights, they could not have guarded him with more 
jealous care. Tliey pretended to discover in the 
natural curiosities of the populace to see one who 
had become the lion of the day, a conspiracy to 
mob him ; and at once took the responsibility of 
his flight upon their own shoulders, averring it to 
have originated in their fears for his person, and 
expressing terrible apprehension lest the Fall 
River folks should take justice into their own 
hands instead of v/aiting for the slow remedy of 
the law. ' The disgrace of flying from the pursuit 



48 FALL RIVER, 

of justice, they affirmed belonged to them, having 
as they said persuaded him off and conveyed him 
to a secret place, against his own judgment. This 
last assertion may well be believed, viz. that " it 
was against his own judgment;" as that, if he had 
any, must have told him that his flight, under such 
circumstances, amounted to a strong presumption, 
if not to a confession of guilt. That he had fears 
cannot be doubted : he might have been in the 
situation of Trumbull's hero, 

" Who found his fear of tar and ropes, 
By many a drachm out weigh his hopes." 

Their fears however of the vengeance of the 
*' Fall River folks" were entirely without founda- 
tion, since nothing was inU'nded but to bring the 
accused to a fair trial, and if his friends knew of 
such resources as they boasted of, they ought to 
have been the last to be afraid of that. But the 
important sixth of May arrived, and headed by an 
army of preachers, stout muscular men as ever 
took the field, followed by a company of women 
as a " corps de reserve" — and flanked by a hun- 
dred and sixty witnesses — the force of the prisoner 
made its appearance. Newport swarmed with 
people of every denomination — curiosity was on 
tiptoe. There was a deep anxiety that truth 
should be brought to light by the friends of justice 
and humanity — and a restless and watchful one 
with others, to prevent if possible its development. 

The trial came on, and the prisoner was pro- 
duced. He was a middle aged man, tall, and of 
very stout frame, and a face that might have pas- 
sed for good looking, had not a certain iron look, 
ajp'dir of very thick lips, and a most unpleasant stare 
of the eyes, have taken much from the agreeable ; 
however it was agreed on all hands that notwith- 
standing these blemishes, ha weuld almost any 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 49 

where pss for a tolerable good looking man, and 
moreovir " looked lilie no fool ;" or to use the 
languagi of the spectators, " looked as though he 
knew niTe than he told for." He was charged 
with thne counts in the indictment. First — " for 
chokingind strangling the deceased." Secondly, 
** for tyiig her to a stake," and thirdly, inflicting 
various Tounds and bruises on the deceased, cal- 
culated t> cause death ; or at least that must have 
l}een ther meaning, though it was worded in the 
dndictnaeit, " of which she instantly died," but as 
no persoi could die twice, we presume this must 
have beei the meaning. The prisoner of course 
plead " not guilty." The difficulties experienced 
in the foraation of a jury were greater, it is be- 
lieved, tlian were ever known before in any court 
in the Urited States, so strong was the presump- 
tion of tie prisoner's guilt that it seemed almost 
impossib]e to find a man who had not made up his 
mind, anc this mind was pretty rudely and une- 
quivocally expressed by all on the spot : some few 
declared Iheir feelings to be perfectly neutral, but 
one only solitary instance could be found of a man 
who said ae had formed an opinion rather favour- 
able to the prisoner ; and it was not until after one 
hundred and eight were challenged that a jury 
could be found : the difficulty was materially in- 
creased by the prisoner's counsel, who in this as 
well as in every part of the trial seemed determi- 
ned to carry every point by what is called manage- 
ment, and who fought the ground inch by inch — 
with so little apparent reverence to the authorities 
of the law that many a native of Rhode-Island 
blushed to hear the highest court in his state dic- 
tated to thus by a Boston lawyer. 

As there are many, probably, who read this who 



60 FALL RIVER, 

have never read the trial and never will, and some 
who will not even permit that documeit to come 
into their houses, we shall endeavour to give a 
summary of the evidence, though in a ery brief 
and perhaps superficial manner; without going 
into the whole revolting particulars. 

First then, the case was stated in a clea- light, by 
D. J. Pierce, Esq. of Newport, the witufsses were 
then sworn. The fact of the death of S. M. Cor- 
nell was then proved, and of her appearince when; 
found, as presumptive evidence she couM not have 
hung herself, that she was taken down vith the ut- 
most care, rolled in a blanket and laid (n straw in 
a horse wagon, and carried over a smooth road to* 
the dwelling of Mr. Durfee, so that n^ne of the 
bruises could have been inflicted after death. — 
Here followed the testimony of the women who 
laid her out, and of the physician who examined 
her, the first and second time, for she was disin- 
terred the second time on the 25th Jtn. when a 
more complete examination was had : this to be 
sure was nearly or quite a month aftei her inter- 
ment, but it was in the coldest part of the year ; 
she had been laid in a dry and marly soil, was fro- 
zen when she was buried, and the earth frozen 
that was thrown upon her, and the physician depo- 
sed that there was little alteration in her from the 
first examination. Every succeeding one brought 
to light new barbarities, and imagination sickens 
at the idea of the cruel butchery which this most 
unfortunate girl must have undergone, previous to 
her being strangled. No person could hear them 
unmoved : the very judges, though used to the de- 
lineation of crime and pictures of violence, wept 
upon the bench : yea wept like children at the de- 
scription of her mangled person. We question 



an authentic narrative. 51 

whether (he mere bodily sufferings of any woman 
ever crea ed such excitement, since the death of 
her whoiii the Levite cut in pieces and sent to all 
the coasts of Israel, which caused the death of 
more than forty thousand persons, and the exter- 
mination of a tribe.* 

The circumstances of the letters were sworn to, 
and ha fa sheet of paper found in the store where 
the letter of the 8th of December was supposed 
to be written, which exactly matched one of the 
letters, both the water mark and even the very 
fibres of the paper. 

It was proved that the prisoner left his home on 
the 20tii Dec. without any good reason, without 
informing his family where he was going or assign- 
ing any excuse for absenting himself, that he had 
refused an invitation for that day to visit a Metho- 
dist lady, without giving any reason; that no person 
had been seen on the route he pretended to have 
taken on that afternoon, but that a man answering 
his description exactly was traced step by step all 
the way to Fall River, even to the very stack yard. 
One man, Mr. Cranston, at Howland's ferry 
bridge, s'vore to his identity. Mr. Lawton, the 
man on the Tiverton side, remembened a person of 
his exact description passing at the same hour, 
three o'clock. Mr. Durfee had been blowing rocks 
quite near the stack yard, and saw a man standing 
and looking about with his back towards him — 
Abner Davis, at work there, saw the same man 
sitting on the wall, and upon his proceeding in the 
direction of the rock where they had just laid a 
tram of powder (the direction of Fall River) call- 
ed out to him, when he stopped. Both of their 

* What mig-hty despotism, what scheme of bondaee, what film of ignorance 
and fanaticism, what synem of ecclesiastical tyranny, may not the death of 
this woman be iuteuJed to break? 



52 FALL RIVER, 

descriptions of clothes, person, &c. agieed with 
that of Avery, and upon seeing him they felt con- 
vinced he was the person, but as they difl not see 
his face could not swear to his identity. William 
Hamilton passing this spot about a quarter before 
nine in the evening, heard sounds as of stifled 
groans of some female in distress. The sounds ap- 
peared to proceed from the spot where the first 
piece of comb was found. He rose the hill and 
stopped, when hearino^ nothing more, went on. — 
One Ellinor Owen, who lived within sight of the 
place, about a quarter of a mile distant, testified 
to hearing screechings from that, direction at half 
past seven in the evening. The cord was identi- 
fied as belonging to some bags that lay in a cart 
of Mr. Durfee's within a few rods. A man an- 
swering his description went into the back room 
of Lawton's hotel, early in the evening on that 
day, and had a glass of brandy carried in. They 
did not know Avery, but upon seeing him, be- 
lieved him to be the same person. Some person 
passed round the toll gate, at Howland's ferry, in 
returning, after it was closed, (after nine o'clock) 
by the beach. Their tracks were seen on the 
sand, where the water effaces any print once in 
twelve hours. The gate-keeper looked in the 
morning and ascertained some one had passed. — 
He returned to Gifford's, at the Ferry late at night, 
about a quarter before ten, and said he had been 
on the island on business ; and to the question of 
the ferryman's daughter, if he "had a meeting that 
evening ?" he returned for answer, he had not, 
but had, " been on business to brother Cook's." 
Nothing perhaps through the whole proceed- 
ings of the trial, examination, &c. gave more 
offence to the feelings of the public than the reck- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. oS 

less disregard to character shewn by the prison- 
er and his friends in impeaching witnesses. This 
last mentioned witness, Miss Jane Gifford, was a 
young lady about eighteen years of age, of fair 
character it is believed as any other in the coun- 
try : she had been a member of the Methodist class, 
and previous to this no one heard any thing to her 
discredit, but on this occasion they brought wit- 
nesses to swear " her character was not good for 
truth and veracity," though upon cross examina- 
tion they were obliged to acknowledge "they had 
never heard anything to her disadvantage previous 
to the Bristol examination." Several very respec- 
table persons in the neighbourhood testified to her 
good character, among the rest Judge Childs, who 
had " known the girl from infancy." They first 
spoke against her at the examination at Bristol, 
where she deposed to the fact. Another instance of 
this barbarity occurred at Bristol, whence it seemed 
an object to prove that S. M. Cornell was a wander- 
er and interloper at the camp meeting in Thomp- 
son : it was there mentioned she was seen with a 
Miss Rebecca Burk of Providence, and by her in- 
troduced to one or two Methodists. Rev. Mr. 
Merrill was asked if she was not a leading member 
of their meeting ? " No," he answered, " she was 
not a leading member there, that she had been set 
aside for impudence, and imprudence of conduct," 
or something like that, when the fact was that this 
same woman had been considered as a leading 
member in that society for more than twenty years, 
that she had been of great service in the cause of 
methodism in Providence particularly, and it is 
believed by many has done more towards building 
up the Methodist society in that town than any 
three persons who could be named, that she has 



54 FALL RIVER, 

given liberally of her substance towards the sup- 
port of their meetings, though obliged to labour 
with her hands for her own support. The only 
thing they could have said, and that if fairly ex- 
plained would have done her no harm, was some 
little disagreement between some of the members, 
of whom she was one, some time previous, where- 
in they were all what they call " put back," for six 
months, and at the end of that time restored, and 
every thing went on as before,* but there was no- 
thing to affect her character. The words " impu- 
dence" and " imprudence" are generally under- 
stood to mean a great deal ; but we are digressing. 
Mr. Orswell, the engineer of the King Philip, 
gave a very clear and comprehensive evidence with 
respect to the delivery of the pink letter by Avery, 
in Providence — that he received it from the hands 
of Avery himself in person, who gave it to him be- 
tween the hours of 8 and 9, or a little past 9 in the 
morning — that he received it with an express in- 
junction to have it delivered as soon as the boat ar- 
rived, and gave him ninepence for carrying it — 
that he did not know Avery then, but went up to 
Bristol to see him, and recognised him at once, at 
his (Avery's) house, and to his anxious inquiries 
of " what he meant to swear?" he replied, " that 
to the best of his knowledge and belief he was the 
person." Avery then put on liis spectacles and 
asked him if he looked like him, and then turning 
to his friends asked them " if he ever went out 
without spectacles ?" No notice appeared to be 
taken of this in court which was singular, as all 
the witnesses who saw him when he crossed the 
ferry (Mr. Pearce, Mr. Gifford, &c.) attest to his 

*Itis saLdtobetheir rule, where people dispute, to crwnpel them to live in 
harmony. If so it is a good rule at any rale. People cannot always see alike, 
l3ut they can refrain from disputing on their differences. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 55 

"being without spectacles. It certainly amounted 
to proof positive of his artifice and dissimulation. 
He did in general, and for all that is known to the 
contrary, invariably wear his spectacles on going 
out, except this once, and on the fatal 20th of Dec. 
What could possibly be his motive for going on 
those tw*? occasions without them, unless it was to 
disguise himself? Mr. Orswell did not positively 
swear to the day the letter was delivered him, but 
thought it was on Thursday. The letter was iden- 
tified as the one he received, by the marks of his 
fingers which were smutty and oily at the time, 
;and he recollected the manner. 

With respect to the Camp Meeting, the source 
and origin as she asserted, of her misfortunes, it 
was stated by a Mr. Paine, the young gentleman 
who carried her there at the request of her brother- 
in-law, " that he had seen her at various times dur- 
ing the summer at the shop where she worked while 
there, and that her conduct always appeared be- 
coming and proper, and that he neither knew or 
suspected or heard of any impropriety in her." 

The sister of the deceased stated that she (S.M. 
Cornell) returned from the Camp Meeting to her 
house with a young man, an apprentice of theirs, 
Mr. Saunders ; and that in September she confess- 
ed her fears of her situation to her, acknowledging 
her connexion with Avery at the Camp Meeting. 
The sister also swore to the fact that S. M. Cornell 
was free from any such embarrassment previous 
to that meeting. This was also sworn to by a Miss 
Lawton, a very respectable young woman in the 
family at the time, and who was her bed fellow. 

The brother-in-law of the deceased also testified 
to this confidence placed in himself and wife, and 
fceing troubled about it, he consulted his minister, 



56 FALL RIVER, 

Rev. Mr. Cornell, and alawyer, and that they both 
advised her removal to Rhode-Island. And fur- 
ther, both stated they never Imd the least reason 
to suppose she meditated self-destruction. That 
she had never, notwithstanding what had past, 
spoken reproachfully of Avery, but always mildly, 
and that her conduct at their house was j;crfectly 
proper." 

Mr. Saunders, the young man mentioned, gave 
his testimony to the bringing of her from Camp 
meeting — her behaviour perfectly proper, &c. in 
answer to the questions asked, and to his having 
put letters in the post office for her several times. 
** Were any of them directed to Bristol?" it was 
asked. " Yes." " Were the letters sent to Bristol 
before or after the Camp meeting?" " Before." 
Before was the answer, and by what strajige over- 
sight this witness was not even interrogated we 
cannot tell ; why after an answer that promised to 
them so much light on the subject, it was pressed 
no further is beyond conjecture. Many people 
previous to this had formed the conclusion that 
" Marmion and she were friends of old." And 
that the betrayer had connived at her expulsion 
from the meeting, in order to conceal his own vil- 
lany the better, and they thought they saw in this 
testimony of the correspondence with Bristol pre- 
vious to the Camp Mveimg a confirmation of their 
suspicions, that the interview with Avery at that 
meeting- was concerted by letter : they therefore 
eagerly looked to see the witness further interro- 
gated, but no such interrogation took place. What 
he would have said^ if interrogated, belong to ano- 
ther part of this story — and we hasten along 
with the trial. 

The testimony of her sister and sister's husband 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 57 

was the only one which related directly to the in- 
terview of the deceased with the prisoner at the 
Camp Meeting. She had told them of an ac- 
knowledg-ement which she had given the meeting, 
about being unworthy, fine. <fec. ; that although she 
was then in good standing with them, it had not 
been returned ; that Avery still had the paper in 
his hands and ought to restore it to her ; that she 
had asked him on the Camp ground for that letter, 
and he requested an interview with her ; that she 
met him in a retired part of the wood, where he 
afeked her to be seated, which she complied with, 
and then asked him if he had got the letter with 
him ?" that he said " no," and then proceeded to 
take unwarrantable liberties, and that she made 
ineffectual resistance. 

It seemed the friends of the prisoner had made 
great objections to the time it must have taken to 
walk the distance back from Fall River to Bristol 
ferry, on the night of the 20th ; and two men now 
appeared and swore to the fact of travelling it re- 
cently in fifteen minutes less than it took the pris- 
oner, according to all their statements : and further 
it seemed the person whose route.was traced all the 
way on that afternoon, was no slouch of a walker; 
for when he went over, a lady who saw him just 
on the Fall River side of Rowland's ferry, remark- 
ed " that if that man kept on as he was going, he 
would get to Ohio before night." The evidence 
mentioned constituted the most important part, 
and pretty much all (though condensed into a 
much smaller compass) that was given. After the 
Government evidence was closed, the host of testi- 
mony on the part of the prisoner was brought 
forward. 

And first, there were six physicians, most of 



58 FALL RIVER, 

them of very considerable eminence in their pro- 
fession ; one or two holdins; professorships in the 
medical department of some of our Universities. 
By them they endeavoured to prove, first that the 
deceased might have hung herself; that there was 
a possibility of her hanging herself up after she 
had strangled herself to death with the cord : next 
that the internal injuries discovered in her person 
on the second examination, viz. a little more than 
a month after the first interment, might have been 
occasioned by decomposition. Those observed at 
the first disinterment they did not attempt much 
to account for. Next, that hanging was a very 
common death by suicide, and an uncommon way 
of murder. (This was certainly a great discovery, 
and no doubt edified the court and jury.) Thirdly, 
a long and most indecent examination and discus- 
sion was entered into, to prove that the prisoner 
could not have been the father of the child which 
the deceased was about to give birth to, and that 
her situation must have commenced previous to 
the Camp Meeting. This they ground on the cir» 
cumstance of the child itself, who perished with 
the mother, being larger than common for that 
period of time. This seemed to be the hinge on 
which they meant the case should turn; and for this 
six physicians, some from a very considerable dis- 
tance, were brought together at a great expense, 
and a most lengthy and elaborate investigation 
was entered into, which for indelicate exposure 
was probably never txcce(\(i(\ in any Court of Jus- 
tice. It was a saying afterwards that " the next 
age would have no need of physicians, as every 
boy capable of reading would be perfectly instruct- 
ed in all the secrets of the Materia Medica — in the 
sciences of Anatomy and Surgery, at least." How- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 59 

ever learned and elaborate it was, it is certain that 
one single question put to those physicians, if 
properly answered, as no doubt it would have been 
would have put the whole to rest at once, by over- 
throwing the whole theory they had been endea- 
vouring to establish. But the counsel for the 
Government happening to understand more of the 
laws of the land than the laws of nature, probably 
never thought of this test.* 

Immediately after the testimony of the physi- 
cians, commenced the examination of along string 
of witnesses'respecting the character of the deceas- 
ed, and here it has been shrewdly said the law was 
violated which provides that "persons shall not be 
compelled to give evidence against themselves." 
The whole sum and substance of the charges 
seemed to be taken from her own mouth, and 
women appeared on the stand and testified to 
things told them by the deceased of herself, " not 
lit for mortal ear to hear, or mortal tongue to utter." 
Such a repetition of village gossip — such a hunt- 
ing up of old factory stories, and of legends long 
since as one would have supposed, forgotten, (that 
is if they ever existed,) never was heard of before. 
Such a display of the amazing powers of memory 
too. That these witnesses were from different 
States, and therefore voluntary witnesses, relaters 
of scandals, of village gossip which never yet spar- 
ed any one, and of which the good and the bad 
have sometimes to be equal partakers ; betrayers 
of confidence reposed in them (by their own ac- 
count) which if true proved at least that the deceas- 
ed, however bad herself, considered them of the 

* What sort of opinion those physicians had of the effect of their evidence may 
be eatliered from the fact that one of them was heard to declare, not more than 
three weeks after the trial, " that he had no more doubt Avery killed her, than 
he had of his own existence." 



60 FALL RIVKR, 

same stamp, for whoever heard of a loose woman 
pouring into the ears of a modest one the history 
of her intrigues ? Whoever heard of such degrad- 
ing herself by being in the conlidence of a wanton? 
It appeared the obvious intent of such testimony 
to prove the deceased a perfect fiend, capable of 
plotting any atrocity and of carrying it through. 
But to what purpose it may be asked was all this 
directed ? What possible bearing upon the case 
could such evidence have? It was not to prove the 
deceased good, but the prisoner bad, that the pro- 
cess was instituted. It was not supposed that an 
immaculate, incorruptible being would have fall- 
en a victim to the clumsy courtship and bungling 
attempts of a fellow who by the testimony of his 
own letters docs not appear to have understood 
even the language he preached in, and a married 
man too. Why then this innumerable company 
of witnesses to blacken her character? 

Why, as people generally understood it, it was 
for a threefold purpose. In the first place, the 
mere introduction of such a crowd of witnesses, 
the mere repetition of such a mass of evidence, 
was of itself sufficient to divert the attention, and 
confuse the intellects of any court and jury that 
ever sat. It had a certain tendency to throw dust 
in people's eyes, a phrase too well understood to 
need explanation here. And above all, its efiect 
would be to turn indignation into another channel. 
This the wily counsel were fully aware of, and the 
doors once open to admit such evidence, they took 
care should not be speedily closed, but that every 
possible frailty or imprudence from the cradle to 
the grave should be hunted up and expatiated 
upon. It had the certain tendency to turn the 
public indignation from the murderer, whoever he 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. G\ 

miirht be, to the person murdered. And some 
were almost ready to exclaim, " No matter who 
killed her — such a person were better out of the 
world than in it — they have certainly done society 
a good service — whatever were the motives of the 
slayer, he has certainly conferred a public bene- 
fit." One person went so far as to say that " he 
did not think such a drab worth having a trial 
about." 

Persons of sense and discernment however there 
were who thought they discovered in this host of 
evidence great contradiction with itself. One of 
these evidences, a physician, related that she had 
come to him for advice, and told him she was a bad 
girl. Several witnesses too corroborate his testi- 
mony, and say that she told him ol her calling on 
this doctor, and that he insulted her, and upon her 
repulsing him, threatened, unless she complied 
with his solicitations, that he would ruin her charac- 
ter with the meeting, and knowing therefore that 
it is esteemed a point of honour with physicians to 
keep all such ihings secret, and that he did imme- 
diately after the threat, as she said, and after the 
visit at any rate, say those things against her, they 
believed it done for revenge.* It was further prov- 
ed that this physician made a demand often dollars 
which she refused to pay, saying she did not owe 
him more than half a dollar. Moreover one ot 
these persons testified that the deceased told her 
she was doctored for a humour which orignated in 
getting cold at a camp meeting — a thing by no 
means incredible to those who know the danger of 
sleeping in the night air, and on the damp earth. 

The story of this insult she persisted in through 
all the subsequent trouble she met with, and they 

• Otl^ii»ifeow«Ter «wor« she confeeeed this ehargrc. 
6 



62 FALL RIVER, 

inquired if one part of her testimony was to be 
credited, why not all. 

One witness testified to her going out of a facto- 
ry with a string in her hand and she followed her, 
and really believed she was going to hang herself 
if she had not interrupted her. 

Another witness of the Methodist Society testi- 
fied that the deceased once told her that she at- 
tempted her life, and had not courage to go 
through with it. 

Two persons, a tavern keeper and his wife, by 
the name of Parker, gave a most singular testimo- 
ny. They averred that eight years before, a girl 
calling her self Mana. Cornell, came to their house 
in the evening, being evidently in a situation no 
young woman w^ould want to travel alone in, and 
*' appeared much engaged in the work of God^^^ 
That was the expression. When two young men 
entered, and she immediately charged one with 
being her betrayer, and frightened him out of a 
sum of money to settle with her, and gave him a 
receipt ; and that they all staid all night ; and she 
came down stairs next morning looking entirely 
different ; and the young man thus swindled took 
no notice of her altered looks ; and they all went 
away, it would seem perfectly satisfied. This 
evidence was judged of great importance it appear- 
ed by the prisoner's counsel, by the manner in 
which it was handled by them. By others it was 
received as exhibiting inconsistencies not to be re- 
conciled. 1. That any young man would put up 
with such an imposition. 2. That any one en- 
gaged in such a fraud would so soon throw off the 
mask. 3. That persons so very religious as they 
evidently wanted to be thought, would tolerate 
such transactions in their houses, and lodge the 



AN AUTHENriC NARRATIVE. 63 

•whole company after it, the woman, whoever she 
was, and her paramour. 

Four women and two men (Methodists) were 
then examined ; the women gave a history of such 
disgusting intrigues, as couki scarce be parelleled, 
which they said the deceased acknowledged to 
them in the way of confession. That she appear- 
ed very penitent for them, and one said " wept 
upon her neck until she was quite disgusted with 
her." Two testified she had threatened vengeance 
upon Mr. Avery for signing her expulsion from 
the meeting, and that she said " she would be re- 
venged on him if it cost her her life," although it 
did not appear she had any known cause of hostili- 
ty against him. No one could attach any blame to 
him, who being her minister was obliged to act as 
the rules of the meeting required. One of these 
fair swearers was one of those who went off with 
him at the time of his flight from Bristol. 

Another instance of that recklessness displayed 
by the prisoner's friends of the character and peace 
of individuals, and perhaps the most barbarous, 
was the trying to disgrace the character of her sis- 
ter's husband, a young man of most unexception- 
able character, always known for his modesty, 
sobriety and piety, and who had not seen the de- 
ceased for several years previous to the fatal sum- 
mer — the last of her earthly pilgrimage, when she 
came to visit them and her aged mother, who re- 
sided in the family. They brought witnesses to 
say, that S. M. Cornell had told her sister's hus- 
band had loved her better than his wife, and that 
they had been as free as man and wife ; and one 
of the witnesses, a young girl, recited a long piece 
of poetry which she recollected she said from read- 



64 FALL KIVER, 

ing it once or twice, and which Maria had said 
her brother addressed to lier.* 

The next company of witnesses were called to 
cover the time of the prisoner's being at the camp 
meeting, which if we recollect was three days, in 
such a manner as to occupy every moment of it, 
and make it an impossibility of his having any as- 
signation with the deceased. In fact, if all this tes- 
timony could be relied on, llie prisoner had not 
only no time for an interview with any woman out 
of their sight, but no time neither for the ordinary 
occasions of life, no hour for private devotion or 
any thing of that sort ; wherever he went, it ap- 
peared from the testimony, there was some one at 
his elbow ; if he walked or rode, or sat or slept, 
or eat or drank, or preached, somebody appeared 
to testify to the hour, whose memory was fresh 
with every particular. As one dropped him an- 
other took him up ; if one left him another join- 
ed him at the same moment, until they fairly 
guarded him out of the premises, and out of the 
country. Had E. K. Avery been a State prisoner, 
suspected of treason, under one of the most ar- 
bitrary governments in the world, he could not 
have been'more strictly guarded and closely watch- 
ed than lie must have hi en, even if the whole Col- 
lege of Jesuits had been on the alert — besides hav- 
ing such fine memories that they could all remem- 
ber so exact about ever j moment of time, and even 
the slightest circumstance respecting this man. 

* It did not seem sufficient that her almost distracted sister hi^d to be di-agg-ed 
to Court, to hear iliit, load of infamy laid upon the departe<I, but h'T i:o nesiic 

Eeace must be assaued, by suspicions endeavored to be infused of the fiucuty of 
er husband, of the father of her children, now her only earthly support and 
consolation. " Ob," said she, when speaking of ths trans iciion'alterwardr to 
a friend, " had I been at all addicted to jealousy , or ha>l the least cau»e to be so, 
or possessed as weak; a mind as they imputed to my sister, what might not th« 
consequences hi'Ve be-^n. They might have broken up my family and pi-rhap* 
driven me to distraction or suicide, but to disturb my peace in thai way is beyond 
the;r power." fcitill w« must suppose she was a very greiU sulTertj- 'in heai:iijj 
sucU abuii«. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, 65 

Many argued, who heard this testimony, that this 
was suspicious ; that it was a tiling contrary to gen- 
eral experience — that among such a multitude, one 
person of no very extraordinary character for any 
thing, should be singled out as an object of remark, 
a point of observation, a centre of attraction to 
which all eyes were turned, and argued from this 
very testimony, as well as the similar one of the 
four days meeting in Providence, that it was over- 
done, and would undoubtedly have a tendency to 
convince the court of the delinquency of the pris- 
oner — the result however disappointed their cal- 
culations. 

In the same manner they endeavored to cover 
the time of day Orswell supposed was the one that 
the letter was handed him. The Attorney Gene- 
ral staled in his remarks, that so earnest had they 
been to cover the time, when the letter could have 
been delivered, that " they made out fifteen min- 
utes more than there really was of it." It appear- 
ed from the testimony of the witnesses, that he was 
constantly with some of them except when the 
went from breakfast to the clergyman's, when the 
walk was accomplished in as short a space of time, 
as ever man walked it, and immediately appeared 
in another place, when the Rev. somebody else 
took him to brother somebody's, and instantly he 
appeared again in the Methodist meeting-house, at 
the beginning of the meeting, precisely at nine 
o'clock ; this they remarked by one particular cir- 
cumstance, it is that he did not open the meeting 
which he had previously agreed to do; for this 
omission no reason appeared from him or his 
friends, so that people were left to conclude, either 
that there was a mistake in the day, which Ors- 
.well did not swear to, or that he had slipped away 



06 

a few moments before the meeting (eluding the 
vigilance of liis sentinels,) and was too much fa- 
tigued to open the meeting after such a race; or 
that he excused himself from making the first pray- 
er, in Older to slip away while the people were on 
their knees and would not observe him ; and as to 
other profane spectators, they would not have ob- 
served the circumstance of a man gliding in and 
out, where there is such constant ingress and 
egress.* 

While the evidence was taking, witnesses ar- 
rived post haste from Providence, to swear that 
they had just measured the distance from the Me- 
thodist meeting-house to the steamboat wharf, and 
found the distance so great that it was impossible 
he could have travelled it that morning before 
meeting. So Mr. Orswell was completely sworn 
down. Nevertheless a little time after that trial 
was decided, a respectable farmer came forward 
and testitied to seeing Avery when he delivered 
the very letter to Orswell. He did not know 
Avery at the time, but when the trial came to be 
published, accompanied with a striking likeness 
of the Rev. accused, this man, Mr. Angell, im- 
mediately recognized the person. f 

Witnesses from the Camp ground were produ- 
ced against S. M. Cornell, the deceased : one of 
whom testified she saw her slap a young man on 

* This dodging about in Methodist meeting is believed to be nothing uncom. 
men. The writer of these pages has a very distinct recollection of J. N. Maffit, 
who used frequently while another minifeter was praying, to climb up and look 
ovL-r the house, to see who stood'efTected and either go to ^uch after, or have them 
brouH-ht up to have tlie benefit of his prayers : as it was not noticed as a breach 
of decorum, we conclude it is not uncommon. 

t The measuring the ground and deciding he could not have g.one on account 
of the distance, reminds us of the trial of John N. Maffit, whom a clergyman ©f 
unimpeachable character saw kiss his hand during service time to a lady in the 
gallery. The methodist conference went and measured the distance from where 
Maffit stood to the gallery, and verj^ gravely decided that the distance was so 
great that the witness could not possibly have heard the report of the kiss! 11 
and that their worUiy brother must be innocent. 



AT /LTilKNTIC NARRATIVF. t)l 

th« shoulder; nnother thoii<rhi Bomething niipht 
Iiave been the matter with her, as she thought <^he 
walked diH'ereiU from other folks ; another im- 
agined something against her character because 
her frock did not quite meet together beliind ; an- 
other testified that it was said there were persons 
of bad character there, who w-ere directed to be 
orde.ed off the ground. But although it was 
known the deceased Avas there, it appeared she 
was not molested. As to the character of Avery 
a number of their witnesses w^ere examined, all of 
whom testified to the fiiultlessness of his character, 
never heard but what his disposition was good, his 
character for every thing, good. Two of these 
witnesses, Methodist ministers by the name o£ 
Merrill, upon being cross examined, confessed he 
had been prosecuted for defamation in Massachu- 
setts, but stated it resulted in nothing to impeach 
his character, and that the Ecclesiastical Council 
acquitted him of all blame. 

And what, asks the reader \vho has never read 
the trial and is unacquainted wdth the events of 
this story (unless Ecclesiastical Councils should 
take the place of Courts of Justice and become the 
law of the land, and such books be condemned to 
be burnt by the common hangman an/^ their authors 
to some modern "Inquisition,") what did they, th€ 
witnesses say respecting the absence of Avery from 
Bristol on the day of the murder ? and how did 
they manage to clear up the circumstance of the 
letters ? of his being so unfortunate as to be in the 
very places, on the very day when the letters were 
dated, and of having letters charged him at the 
Post Office on the very day w^hen the letters of the 
deceased must have reached him ? Surely hep© 
must have been their strongest stand ; and thes* 



68 FALL RIVER, 

things satisfactorily aceoimted for would not only- 
have saved his life, but what is of more value, or 
ought to be to a christian minister, his character. 
Doubtless this must have been the ransacking for 
witnesses at the time the turnpike gates saw such 
hard service. This must have been the dodging 
in and out of every tavern, factory village and 
factory boarding house in the country. 

N© such thing, no such witnesses were brought 
forward, nothing of the kind attempted. Relying 
upon the protection of the law, that the accuser 
shall prove where the accused is, not he prove 
where he is not, the prisoner took possesion of the 
strong hold, and saved the ship from sinking by 
throwing character overboard. 

But surely, says th-e reader, they must have made 
a lame piece of work of it, if that were the case. 
For what purpose this array of witnesses to prove 
the deceased bad ? that was what the government 
wanted to prove : for good she could not be and 
be his mistress — her minister ! a married man too ! 
Why it argues a great degree of depravity, or in- 
fatuation, or destitution of reason. How did all 
these inconsistences of character in the deceased 
help him ? It only made the probability of the 
case more app£irent. Granted — but nevertheless 
this testimony, strange and inconsistent and con- 
tradictory as it was, was their fort, and upon this 
they grounded their defence of the prisoner. The 
counsel for the prisoner had sketched out a ro- 
mance, not to be equalled by any thing we know 
or read of Spanish or Italian vengeance, and dress- 
ing it up in a most ingenious manner, presented it 
to the attention of the Jury. Hir» argument was, 
that this girl, the deceased, was utterly bad, capa- 
;ble of any sort of wickedness ; that she owed the 



AN AUTHE.VTIC NARRlTIVr. 09 

j)risoner a grudge for his slmre in turning her out 
of meeting, and that she Imd a\ reaked her ven- 
geance v.jion him in this manner ; first, hy wrilinjr 
the letters or procuring them to be written and sent 
to her, and then by jn-ctendine he wa> her betray- 
er ; and finall}' hanging herself after writing a bil- 
let, " if she was missing to inquire of the Rev. E. 
K. Avery," — that she had said, " she would be 
revenged upon him if it cost her her life," and ac- 
cordingly had contrived this method and carried 
it into execution, and that all the rest was the ef- 
fect of the lieightened imagination of the Fall Hiv- 
cr folks ; and the excitement he politely styled the 
'* Fall River fever :" and Avhenever in the course 
of his brief review of the evidence, he chanc 'd to 
come across something remarkably tough, v, hy 
with a flourish known only to the people called 
lawyers, he would give it a toss, and get rid of it at 
once without any trouble, as easily as one would 
toss a biscuit into the sea. Never was the old 
proverb verified better than in this case, viz. "one 
bold assertion is better tlian a host of argument," 
and "two negatives is as good as one aflirmative;" 
and we had like to have added the third, " a lie 
well stuck to is as good as the truth," but we leave 
that out. He attempted to establish it as a fact 
that the deceased was insane too, and yet that all 
this method v/as adopted in her madness : that she 
was capable of a })lot of revenge deeper and of a 
more diabolical character tlian any ever related 
before of woman — a plot which, in conception and 
execution, surpassed all human credibility. 

He was replied to by the Attorney General, Al- 
bert C. Greene, Esq. a\ hose health at the time was 
not good, and whose arduous labours had during 
the trial much exhausted him ; a gentleman of good 



70 FALL RIVER, 

law knowledge, of amiable manners, and feeling 
heart, but whose plain good sense was no match 
for the subtlety of his antagonist. His speech 
contained much sound reasoning ; nevertheless, 
after a short charge from the chief justice, the jury- 
retired, and on the next morning, at 9 o'clock, 
brought in a verdict of not guilty^ having con- 
sumed four weeks in the trial. 

Various opinions respecting the verdict of the 
jury prevailed, yet all felt it their duty to acquiesce 
in the decision of a legal tribunal, and no one had 
the least idea of molesting Mr. Avery after his dis- 
charge by the court. The Fall River people, who 
had behaved throughout mostmagnanimously,not- 
withstanding the hue and cry of the friends of 
Avery, that they were thirsting for his blood, and 
a deal more of that sort, were as content to let him 
live as any others. They however looked for- 
ward with certain confidence to his being deposed 
as a preacher. They could conceive of very great 
efforts to save him from the gallows, from the mis- 
taken notion that the penalty was the disgrace of 
<;rime, and that his death would be thought to bring 
an uneffaeeable stain upon the Methodist order. 
When therefore his own people sat upon his case, 
as it was known they did not measure their decis- 
ion by the fiat of the law, and that he did not, nor 
eould not, satisfactorily account for himself, or 
clear up the affair of the letters^ &c. it was be- 
lieved he would be expelled from their order, or 
at least forever debarred from preaching — that if 
it were for their own character alone, they would 
not sufler such an outrage upon the feelings and 
common sense of the community. But to their 
amazement and that of others the " Ecclesiastical 
Council," as they style themselves, the highest 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 71 

tribunal among them at any rate, pronounced him 
perfectly innocent, and freed from all suspicion, 
and continued him in the service of his office. This 
outrage upon the feelings of society it is believed 
will eventually injure them more in the estimation 
of mankind, than it would have done to have had 
twenty preachers hung. 

To leave digression and pursue the thread of the 
narrative — E. K. Avery was almost instantaneous- 
ly hurried out of Newport, after tlie rendering of 
the verdict, and conveyed to his family in Bristol, 
and continued in his office, and weekly to hold forth 
to the people, followed by crowds Vv^hom curiosity 
attracted to hear him, so muchlnore v/ill that im- 
pel people than devotion. 

The murdered, mangled remains of Sarah Maria 
Cornell still repose at Fall River, at rest we hope, 
from all further molestation. The generous and 
feeling inhabitants of the village wished to have 
placed a handsome marble monument over her re- 
mains, detailing the sad tragedy of her death, but 
this her relations objected to, from the fear that it 
would not be permitted to rem.ain, and that the 
same interest which had been exerted to blacken 
her character, might be to destroy all records of 
the transaction. Her brother and sister Rawson 
therefore placed a small but neat stone at the head 
and foot of the grave, simply inscribed with her 
name and age. That lowly grave has been the 
pilgrimage of thousands from all the diff'erent sec- 
tions of the country. It is in vain that the friends 
of Avery endeavour to place that unfortunate being 
beneath even the pity of the virtuous. Her own 
sex feel she was a woman, and as such entitled to 
their sympathies, the other, more generally inclin- 
ed to compassionate female frailty, pity her with 



72 

undissembled sorrow. Few have visited tliat spot 
without tears. There seems to be a spell breath- 
ing around that none can withstand : the eflect is 
absolutely irresistible. It is a humble grave, in a 
solitary spot. It is a grave of a poor factory girl, 
but from that grave a voice seems toissue,noiseles3 
as that still small one,that speaks to the conscience 
of the sinner, but whose tones nevertheless sink 
deep into the heart. The author of these pages 
visited that spot, as well as the one where she met 
her fate, at a most interesting moment. It was on 
the evening of the tirst of July. The moon was 
then at its full, yet a kind of shadowy darkness 
hung over the spot, blending the outlines of ihe 
surrounding landscape so as to render them nearly 
indistinct. For some time I stood wondering, 
without dreaming of the cause, but upon looking 
up, discovered the moon was in an eclipse. There 
was a singular coincidence in it certainly, and it 
forcibly reminded me of the dark and mysterious 
fate of her who reposed beneath. I watched it as 
the shadow slid from the moon's disk, and I felt 
that confidence which I have ever felt since, that 
the mistery of darkness which envelopes the story 
and hides the sad fate of that unfortunate victim 
will one day be dispersed. The following lines 
were penned at the time and afterwards published 
in the Fall River Monitor. They are inserted 
here by request. 

And here thou makest thy lonely bed, 
Thou poor forlorn and injured one ; 

Here rests thy aching head — 
Marked by a nameless stone.* 

♦ Tlie atOQW with her nan>c' were not tUen up» 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 73 

Poor victim of man's lawless passion, 
Though e'er so tenderly carest — 

Better to trnst the raging ocean, 
Than lean upon his stormy breast. 

And thou though frail, wert fair and mild ; 

Some gentle virtues warmed thy breast. 
Poor outcast being ! sorrow's child ! 

Reproach can't break thy rest. 

On thy poor wearied breast the turf 
Lies quite as soft as on the rich : 

What now to thee the scorn and mirtli, 
Of sanctimonious hypocrites. 

That mangled form now finds repose, 
And who shall say thy soul does not, 

Since he who from the grave arose 
Brought immortality to light. 

Poor fated one the day is coming 
When sin and sorrow pass away — 

I see the light already gleaming 
Which usherss in an endless day. 

Where shall the murderer be found ? 

He calls upon the rocks in vain — 
The force of guilt will then confound, 

Alas the Judge ! no longer man. 

He calls upon the rocks in vain^ 

The adamantine rocks recoil. 
Earth can no longer hide the slain, 

And death yields up his spoil. 

Where shall the murderer appear ? 

My God thy judgements are most deep : 
No verdict can the monster clear 

Who dies a hypocrite must wake to weep. 



CHAPTER V. 

LIFE OP SAEAH MARIA CORNELL. 

"With the greatest care and impartiality the au- 
thor of the following pages has collected together 
^11 the facts susceptible of proof relating to the life 
of Sarah Ma^-ia Cornell. Some of these were gain- 
ed from her own family — others from strangers. 

S. M. CORNELL was horn in May, 1802, in 
Rupert, Vermont. Her mother, the daughter of 
Christopher Leffingwell, Esq. of Norwich,* was a 
well educated and good principled woman, a daugh- 
ter to one of the first families in the State. She 
had been carefully brought up and accustomed 
only to the best society. Unhappily she contract- 
ed early in life an unfortunate attachment. Mr. 
Cornell was a person employed in one of the 
manufactories belonging to her father. Good 
looking and of pleasing address, he succeeded in 
captivating the affections of a daughter of his em- 
ployer. Mr. Leffingwell was at first very wroth, 
and made considerable opposition to the match,but 

*Thi« Christopher Lefflngvrcll was th« direct descendant of that Thoma* 
Ltfl\ngwell of Saybrook, Connecticut, who had the houor of rescuing by his 
bravery the celebrated Dncaa, with his remnant of Mohicans, from the power 
of the Narr;\gan8etls, in the bloody warbetween the ludians of this last tribe and 
the new settlers, the English, about the year 1660 ; and who received afterwards, 
asatestimony oi gratitude from that renowned warrior, the grant of land, by 
deed, of all that tract upon which the town of Norwich now stands. New-Eng- 
land ie under lasting obligations to the name of Leffingwell. The circuiristan- 
eta were these. 

IJncas, who with his band_wa« fighting in defence of the whites, got hemmed 
in, in a place of imminent danger, at some distance from Saybrook, but found 
HKansto send a messenger to that place to ask the English thereto come to his 
relief. Th»ir whole force had left the place, in another direction, except those 
left to guard the fort. But Thomas Leffingwell formed the bold plan of coiivey- 
ibgthe whole band acrosi into the fort, in the course of the night, in his canoe, 
and i^iuaUy accompliihed it ; and when the ferocious Narragansetts came 
upouthfir poet, in the moniiitg. b«hold tlioy were gone ! all safely gicirsd inte 
the Kiiglish fort at Saybrook. 'Vi^e manteuTre mrued the tiUoof war. 



AN AUTHENTIG NARRATIVE. 75 

upon being assured by hia daughter that she was 
firmly and imraoFcably attached to Cornell and 
eould never be happy with any other man, the old 
gentleman gare up the conteit, and suffered the 
union to take place without further opposition. 
His daughter removed after marriage to Vermont, 
where her children were born ; and here she wn 
destined to taste the bitterness of an ill assorted 
union. Her husband it seemed had formed the 
design, and it very soon developed, to be support-- 
ed from his father-in-law's funds, which were sup- 
posed inexhaustible, and himself to be a gentleman 
at large. In pursuit of this determination h« 
worked upon the feelings of his wife to get her to 
draw money from her father. Mrs. Cornell, who 
was one of those gentle, unresisting characters 
that knew not how to contend, iuffered herself for 
some time, though sorely against her feelings, to 
be influenced to this, and repeatedly drew large 
sums of money from her indulgent father, to sup- 
ply her husband's demands, until at length the old 
gentleman resolutely refused to advance anymore, 
upon which Cornell carried his wife and ehildren 
to her father's house, and leaving them, quit the 
country,and relieved himself forever from the task 
of supporting a woman whom he had probably 
married without the least sentiment of affection 
whatever, and abandoning the children in their 
helpless infancy, whom the laws of God, and the 
laws of the land both required him to support. 
What was the situation of Mr. Leffingwell's estate 
at his decease, we do not know, orwhethor he sup- 
posed he had bestowed enough upon this daughter; 
but certain it is that although the rest of the family 
were in easy circumstances, if not affluent, she and 
her family were poor, and she and her ehildren 



76 FALL RIVER, 

found a home with some of their relatives, and ap- 
pear to hare looked chiefly to their own exertions 
for support. They were separated, being all 
brought up at different places, and not even know- 
ing one another for several years. The unfortu- 
nate girl who is the subject of this memoir was in 
the same house with her mother until about eleven 
years of age. She then went to live with a Mrs. 
Lathrop of Norwich, her mother's sister. With 
her she continued until fifteen years of age, and 
then went to learn the tailor's trade, where she 
staid two years, and then for a time resided with 
her mother in Bozrah, a short distance from Nor- 
wich, working at her trade. 

During her residence at the house where she 
learned her trade, her mind appeared for the first 
time called up to attend to religion. There was at 
the time a great reformation, as it is termed, in the 
neighborhood — that is, there was a great stir about 
religion, and much going to meeting, and many 
professing, of which number doubtless many con- 
tinued steadfast ; but in a time of such general ex- 
citement it is known there is a great deal of self- 
deception. The quick feelings and sanguine tem- 
perament of S. M. Cornell were calculated to mis- 
lead her, and it was not long before she rushed 
with the multitude to the altar of baptism, joining 
herself in christian communion to the congrega- 
tion of the Rev. Mr. Austin, a Calvinistic congre- 
gationalist. No reproach can with justice attach 
itself to a clergyman in such cases, unless they 
are hurried iwto such a profession without any 
time for trial, which was not the case in this in- 
stance. Man cannot look into futurity and tell 
who will prove steadfast and who will not, and if 
a rational person makes a good profession of faith, 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE 77 

and avoirs a resolution to lead a christian life, the 
minister is bound to receive them, unless he know* 
somelhing^ in their present character and conduct 
at variance with their professions. For two years 
she continued steadfast, and it was said a bright 
example in outward conduct ; yet nevertheless 
the seed had fallen on stony ground, where the 
earth was not of sufficient depth to foster it. A 
season of declension succeeded it. Lightness and 
vanity again took possession of her imagination. 
A passion for dress at this time seemed to b« a 
predominant feeling, and that passion she was 
obliged to set bounds to, because she had not th« 
means of gratifying it. 

It was at this unfortunate season, the only one 
it is believed in her existence when the same temp- 
tation would have had the same weight, that her 
mother brought her to Providence. Her older 
sister lived there with a relation who had brought 
her up ; and these two sisters, separated for many 
years, had long desired a reunion. That wish, so 
natural was at last indulged, and like most of our 
earnest desires for earthlv gratification, indulged 
to their mutual sorrow. Introduced for the first 
time since childhood into the temptations and al- 
lurements of a commercial town, those feelings of 
childish vanity, and love of dress, and show, and 
ornament, which had been growing upon her for 
some time, seemed completely to get the mastery, 
and being often in the shops where those articles 
for which she had so lon^ sighed presented them- 
selves before her — she at length possessed herself 
of some of them, trifling indeed in amount, but 
destined to prove her entire destruction in thig 
world as respected character and every thiHgels©. 
Though the whole of these articles purloined in 
7* 



78 FALL RIVER 



a moment of lightness, of thoughtlessness and 
temptation, did not exceed in amount but a very 
few dollars, it was immediately discovered, and 
the avenger was close upon her heels. Unused to 
crime, her manner at the time was so singular and 
agitated as to excite suspicion in the store, and 
she was followed to the house of one of her rela- 
tives, where the articles were found — not exceed- 
ing five dollars in amount, and several very small 
trifles beside, which slie immediately told of, and 
where she got them, and her friends sent them to 
the gentlemen, and offered to pay all damages,&-c. 
to both ; they exacted nothing however but the 
amount of the goods. The grief and agitation of 
the poor girl vented itself in repeated tits of hys- 
terical laughing and crying at the time, and in the 
bitterest self-accusation afterwards, when she 
seemed fully to realize what she had done, and 
could those gentlemen have known the effect that 
disgrace was to have upon her future destiny, 
doubtless they would have preferred to have lost 
ten times the amount rather than have exposed 
her. Be that as it may however, the fact that she 
did purloin these articles is certain, and I have it 
in express charge from her nearest kindred, her 
kind brother and sister, not to attempt to conceal it, 
but in every thingasfar as I can discoverthe truth to 
make it manifest. They knew of this delinquency 
in their sister by her own confession ; she did not 
attempt to deceive them, and they knew of no 
other instance of the kind of her offending ; they 
knew by the same means, viz, her own confessions, 
of her intercourse with Avery, and they know of 
no other person with whom they believe her to 
have been criminal. But to go back to the story.* 

*Someof the people so violent in denoimcing this poor girl, at the time, were 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 79 

The open, candid manner in which they had 
behaved themselves, and the keen distress of the 
offender herself, certainly induced them to hope 
she would not be publicly exposed, but by some 
means or other it was immediately communicated 
to town and country. For this they were not pre- 
pared, far less did they anticipate that this circum- 
stance would be brought up in a coui\ of justice, 
eleven years after, to prove that she killed herself, 
to be avenged on a man who had exposed her mis- 
conduct, when she had not even shewn resentment 
towards them. 

That this was the only sin of the kind — the only 
instance of dishonesty that could be brought up 
against S. M. Cornell, must be believed by every 
one who ever saw the famous trial of S. M. Cor- 
nell, denominated on the title page, " Trial of E. 
K. Avery." For had there been another thing of 
the kind known against her — a wit observed as 
*' heaven, earth and hell were ransacked for wit- 
nesses," it must have made its appearance. On 
the contrary, she was afterwards often remarked 
for the punctuality and exact regularity of her 
dealings. The writer of these pages knew a mil- 
liner with whom she had very considerable deal- 
ings at Lowell, and to whom she was often indebt- 
ed, and who remarked " that she was the most 
punctual person in the payment of her debts she 
had ever known, as she seemed to have a principle 
of honesty about discharging a debt the very day 
she had promised the money, and always bore in 
mind the exact sum she owed." 

running crazy after a new preacher then in town, who, they affirmed, was one 
of the greatest saints living ; as he had done every thing bad— murder excepted. 
Among other things, he had been a thief, they said. Not thinking that any 
particular recommendation in a preacher, we had not the honor of hearing him ; 
but we recollect remembering, at the time, the old adage, " one man may steal 
a horse, while another man cannot look over his shoulder." 



80 FALL RIVER, 

It appears that the connexions of S. M. Cornell 
generally, with the exception of her mother, and 
her kind hearted sister, meant to make her feel the 
full extent of the offence she had committed. It 
does not in the general way require much to set 
rich relations against poor ones — but here was 
ample room for feelings of superiority over poor, 
fallen human nature. Some of her connexions 
shut the door in her face when she called to see 
them afterwards — and for the most part they man- 
ifested a very proper detestation of her offence, by 
displaying proper resentment, ^^he returned to 
the country and resumed her employment, but the 
story got there before her. She had relinquished 
her former employment of tailoring and gone to 
work in a factory. Here she was now regarded 
with a degree of suspicion, painful in the extreme 
to a person of her natural pride, and she quit the 
place and went to another, but being dissatisfied 
with the employment, again resumed her sewing, 
and went to live with a merchant tailor in a neigh- 
boring town ; she continued in his employment 
some months, when the story reached the family 
that she " had been talked about,^^ which caused 
them to watch her with scrupulous regard. There 
was a young gentleman then in the neighborhood 
who used to go often into the shop, and frequently 
sit down by her and converse, sometimes in an un- 
der tone, and sometimes he would invite her to 
take a walk of a pleasant evening, and she would 
go with him. This circumstance, as he was a 
young and unengaged man, and she very pretty, 
would probably of itself have caused no suspicion, 
had not the saying that she had been talked about 
been so often repeated. She did not board with 
the family who employed her, but in the family of 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 81 

a respectable physician on the other side of the 
way : and being convinced by the circumstance 
just related, joined to the saying that she had been 
" talked about," though they did not exactly know 
for what, that her character was not good, the wife 
of her employer took it upon her to dismiss her ; 
and sending for her to come in, begun by accus- 
ing her of "imposing herself upon their society 
when her character was not good;" and having 
said all she judged necessary on that head, she 
formally dismissed her from their employment. 
During all this time the poor, persecuted girl only 
opposed tears to the reproaches heaped upon her. 
She knew that she had, by one indiscretion, by 
one violation of that command, " thou shalt not 
covet any thing that is thy neighbor's," brought 
reproach upon her good name ; and she probably 
thought they knew of it, and said nothing because 
she could not bear to hear it named. She only 
asks permission to remain until next day, when 
the stage would pass, which was granted. " To 
this day," said the lady who had vented these re- 
proaches, "to this day, my conscience reproaches 
me for the harshness with which I spoke to her, 
when memory recalls the tears she shed, and her 
meek, forbearing manners, and I must say, that 
she had the meekest temper, and one of the mild- 
est and sweetest dispositions I ever met with." 
She added, that that very night a relation of theirs 
who was then very ill in their house, was distress- 
ed for a watcher, they having sent half over the 
neighborhood for one without success ; which S. 
M. Cornell hearing of, immediately offered to 
watch with her, and though they were ashamed to 
accept of her services, they were constrained to ; 
and that she was so kind and attentive to the sick, 



82 FALL RIV^R, 

that the woman after her recovery often enquired 
after her, saying, " she was the kindest and best 
person to the sick, she ever saw." 

From this place it appears she went to Slaters- 
ville, Rhode-Island, and commenced working 
again in tlie factory ; soon after which, a Mr. Tay- 
lor, a Methodist, commenced preaching there, and 
here again there was a great stir about religion. 
Mr. Taylor was one of their popular preachers, 
there was a great reformation, and S. M. Cornell, 
who had for some time given up the idea that she 
had ever possessed religion, was once more 
awakened ; and having, by some means or other, 
became persuaded that immersion was the only 
Scripture way of baptism, felt desirous to be re- 
baptized. After a profession of faith and going 
through all the preliminaries, she was accordingly 
immersed ; and the Methodist meeting, who pro- 
fess to believe that water administered in any form, 
in the name of the Trinity, is baptism, and who 
baptize in both ways themselves, had no hesita- 
tion in rebaptizing her. However, that is of mi- 
nor consequence to Avhat followed. She continu- 
ed in fellowship with them, it appears by her let- 
ters, during her stay in Slatersville, which must 
have been over two years ; for she staid there until 
the factory burnt down, and then of course had to 
depart in search of employment. With several 
others she removed to the Branch factory, a few 
miles off. Here she staid until the water becom- 
ing very low, there was not steady employment, 
when she removed to Millville, to the satinett fac- 
tory. From this place, only about a mile and a 
half from Slatersville, it will be seen by her letters, 
she attended her beloved Methodist meeting at 
Slatersville, and appears to have felt great joy at 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 83 

finding herself so near there again. No person 
can read her letters and suppose she feigned what 
she wrote. Just before her leaving Smithfield, 
i. e. Slatersville, Mr. Itawson, her brother-in-law, 
w^ent and carried her brother, who had been absent 
several years at New-Orleans, to visit her, and in- 
quired of the family where she boarded, "how 
Maria got along ?" " Very well indeed," was the 
reply, " and much engaged in religion," they ad- 
ded, " and set a very good example." 

While at this place her zeal in the cause of 
meetings continued. It appears she was in the 
habit of walking down to Slatersville, on all oc- 
casions, to meetings ; and that in the prayer meet- 
ings as well as those for exhortation, she usually 
took a part, and was called an active member. 
We do not know whether she was censured at this 
time, but this fact we do know from letters in our 
possession, that she was in the habit of corres- 
ponding Avith Methodist sisters at this time, and 
subsequent* to it, who were highly spoken of for 
piety and consistence. We have some directed 
to this last place, and they address her as " worthy 
sister," and solicit an interest in her prayers. 

It had been the intention of Maria (by that name 
she was generally called) to return to Slatersville 
as soon as the new manufactory should be com- 
pleted, and never to leave the people with whom 
she was connected there until death, but unfor- 
tunately the works did not keep pace with her im- 
patience ; she disliked the woollen factory where 
she worked at Millville, and one of the girls who 
had been a favorite companion and sister in the 
church persuaded her to go to Lowell, and de- 
claring her determination to go there first, which 
she did not however do immediately, as Maria 



84 FALL RIVER, 

came to Providence to visit her -friends, or more 
particularly to visit her dear mother; and after 
staying some little time in Providence and Paw- 
tucket, received a line from her friend urging her 
again to go to Lowell, and naming a place on the 
road, where they would meet on a certain day 
provided she would comply. The place was in 
Dedham, and , here they concluded to remain, but 
there being no Methodist meeting, she became 
discontented, and after four weeks residence there 
proceeded to Dorchester. What caused all this 
delay in going to Lowell is not known, unless some 
guardian spirit interposed and delayed her pro- 
gress to the place which was to consummate her 
destruction. During the time of her sojourn in 
the towns already mentioned, at several different 
times she received attentions from some young 
man, who she thought and others thought wished 
to marry her. Many young men make a practice 
it is well known of amusing themselves at the ex- 
pense of young women who are apparently with- 
out friends and natural protectors to call them to 
account for such baseness and compel them to act 
honorable. S. M. Cornell had the curse of beauty, 
and she was not without admirers. She was natu- 
rally of an affectionate and confiding disposition. 
Her manners too, all partook of that character of 
fondness for which she has been so unjustly cen- 
sured. She loved her mother and sisters, and her 
letters bespeak any thing but a depraved heart. 
It is an indisputable fact that an abandoned wo- 
man is without natural affection, and we see that 
she was the very reverse of this. Her letters she 
did not even know would be preserved. Little 
could the poor, unfortunate girl have dreamed of 
the use here made of them : they were only to 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 85 

meet the eye of her sister and her aged and bow- 
ed down mother. It seemed as though her affec- 
tions sought constantly for some object upon which 
to repose themselves, for something to lavish that 
tenderness upon with which her heart was over- 
flowing. Disappointed in her first choice (which 
has been basely insinuated was her sister's hus- 
band, a tissue of falsehoods from beginning to end) 
disappointed in those schemes of earthly happi- 
ness upon which her heart had once been set, she 
strove to forget all but her duty, and to love God 
alone : nevertheless, there were times when she 
could not help, s-ituated as she was, desiring some 
respectable connexion and decent settlement in 
life ; and it is believed that she received the atten- 
tions of several young men who professed to her 
honorable attachment, with the laudable object in 
view of obtaining such settlement. .How different 
her fate would have been could she have been set- 
tled in life and tied to the duties of a wife and 
mother, v/e cannot now say, but the probability is 
she would have made a very respectable figure in 
society, and a much better wife than ordinary, 
owing to the natural docility of her disposition, 
her perfect habitual good nature, and forbearance 
and forgiveness. But the waywardness of her 
destiny prevented, and perhaps the providence of 
God, which sometimes ordains partial evils to pro- 
mote some universal good, ordered it otherwise. 

The religion of this ill fated girl, it will be seen 
by her letters, was a religion of feelings and 
frames. Though there is no doubt it was sincere, 
yet it was of that unstable kind that is most apt 
to fail when most needed. She had engaged in it 
in a time of high excitement, and its existence was 
preserved — while it was preserved — by constant 
8 



86 

application of the means which created it, viz : by 
frequent attendance on those exciting meetings 
where highly wrought feeling and sometimes hys- 
terical affection is often mistaken for devotion. 
While there, there is no doubt she thought herself 
in the enjoyment of religion ; and v/hen out, the 
mind and spirits, by a natural reaction, would suf- 
fer a correspondent depression, and the same 
stimulus must be again resorted to. it will be ob- 
served that the style of the letters, w^hich follow 
this slight sketch, varied materially after a year's 
residence at Lowell, and were less frequent. Pre- 
vious to this date, during a residence of more than 
a year in Dorchester, and the one year that suc- 
ceeded in Lowell, religion seemed to be the chief 
subject of her correspondence ; soon after which, 
it is evident the subject, for some reason or other, 
flagged : and her last letters, few and far between, 
do not even make mention of the subject. That 
there was a cause for this, no one can doubt. She 
could write of it when in the confusion of a board- 
ing house, as she says, with " sixty boarders," 
and sometimes, nearly "all gabbling at once." 
But something has happened to damp her zeal now, 
or conscience whispers. " Thou that preachest 
to others, art thou a castaway ?" 

That she felt the want of a friend, that she de- 
sired one, is something so natural and proper that 
we cannot blame her for it. And that the w^arm 
tide of her affections sought for rest on some ob- 
ject was no fault of hers, but that they should have 
centred at last on a married man, was shocking 
indeed. That man was her minister, the person 
who broke the sacramental bread, and presented 
the sacramental cup, was an aggravation of her 
crime, a henious aggravation. Although it is to 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 87 

be presumed one of that sacred character might 
have more influence over the opinions of a person 
than any other ; yet any attempts at famiiiarity 
ought to be doubly offensive in such, since it 
proves at once that he is a hypocrite. 

As to the opinion of attachments on the part of 
iS. M. Cornell towards her minister, we ground it 
on these facts. First, by her letters themselves ; 
not merely because they slsow a decline in reli- 
gious zeal at the time when we believe it commen- 
ced, but from this circumstance : — that the name of 
Avery is never mentioned by her in any of them. 
She appears to speak with freedom of other per- 
sons, and other ministers ; of Mr. Taylor^ Oath- 
man, Maffit and others, but his name she studious- 
ly avoids. She was not only three years at Low- 
ell, the greater part of which time she sat under 
his d;iijy a:.-.] ni^jhrly ministrations, but she heard 
him at Great Falls and in other places in the 
neighborhood of Boston. Yet his name never es- 
capes her pen. There must be some reason for 
this. As has been said, she seemed to contrive to 
be somewhere within the range of his preaching 
from the first of her acquaintance with him. — 
Whether it was by her contrivance or his howev- 
er, it is impossible for us to say, since she cannot 
tell, and he wont tell. How the intimacy com- 
menced, and whether it was of a criminal nature 
previous to the Camp-Meeting at Thompson, we 
believe no one has taken upon themselves positive- 
ly to say ; but from what is related of the circum- 
stances of their intimacy, every one can judge. — 
The parson, it is said, was a very polite man to 
females, frequently inviting some one of them to 
ride to a meeting or an evenino- lecture with him 
in his covered Carryall, and that he sometimes did 



88 FALL RIVER, 

the deceased the honor of riding with her. It 
will be recollected that at the Bristol examination 
Averv or some of his friends staled the fact that 
S. M. Cornell had lived a short time in his family, 
but that Mrs. Avery was not satisfied with her, 
and she had been dismissed. 

At the time the sheriff passed through Lowell 
in pursuit of Avery, after his flight from justice, 
he learnt some very important particulars respect- 
ing this and others connected with it, and after- 
wards proposed laying it before the court upon his 
trial, but was told they were inadmissible, since it 
was not any particular act of impropriety in the 
prisoner's life, previous to the commission of the 
crime for which he stood indicted, but his general 
character, which they wished to know, and which 
could alone in this case be considered as evidence. 
And as the sheriff was not prepared to prove that 
his general character, or that of any other preach- 
er, was that of a rake, he of course kept it back : 
some of this found its way afterwards into the pub- 
lic papers of the day, and upon examination, the 
facts appear to be these. 

Fii-st, that S. M. Cornell was a resident in the 
family of E. K. Avery about a week, and that dur- 
ing that time he used to come out of her room after 
ten o'clock at night ; and that the family, on being 
questioned upon the subject, gave as a reason 
" that she was ill, and sent for him to come in and 
pray with her." 

Secondly, that his wife, though habitually a 
mild, forbearing woman, on this occasion rose, and 
positively declared " she would not have the girl 
in the house any longer," when she went away. 

Thirdly, that it was customary for him to be shut 
in his study with some young woman or other ai- 



AN AUTHENTIC KARJlATirE. 89 

most every day; sometimes several, in the course 
of the day. Very seldom any of these were seen 
by his wife ; but that unfortunate woman was often 
seen with eyes red and swollen, as though she had 
recently been in tears ; and though used to speak 
mildly, she never mentioned the name of S. M. 
Cornell but with evident resentment and bitterness 
of feeling, even after she had gone from there. 

Fourthly, that he was in the habit of keeping 
very late hours ; being out without his wife ; and 
giving no satisfactory account of himself, not even 
to the family in the house, whose rest he often 
disturbed, by obliging them to sit up for him, as 
they did not feel safe to retire and leave the front 
door unfastened : that on one occasion, after re- 
turning from their own prayer meeting, at nine 
o'clock, (the time such meetings usually close,) 
and setting up* for Avery until after eleven, they 
retired, and Irj behaved with most unbecoming 
passion, beating and banging the door as though 
he would stave it in, and that the ovt^ner of the 
house hurried to let him in as quick as possible, 
and then retreated ; when Avery entered, flung the 
door too, and snatching the key from the lock, 
carried it to his chamber. The master of the 
house followed him, and made him return the 
key. These things, together with others of an 
aggravating nature determined the family not to 
reside any longer under the same roof, but having 
a chance to sell the house, they removed and left 
him in it. That it was not wholly on account of 
his late hours, so unbecoming in a clergyman, but 
on account of other things which they disliked ; 
one of which was the frequent closetings with 

♦Nothing- of ihissort is credited by the author, or mentioned, without Btiffi- 
ciem prool, Bliouict it be ceceeaary, thoat proofs cau be conuiig forthwuh. 



90 FALL RIVER, 

youngwomen in the study, which stood at the head 
of the stairs and contained a bed ; and was rather 
remote from the sitting room and lodging room of 
his wife, having to pass through the front entry 
and front room, and a passage way, to get to the 
kitchen v/here Mrs. Avery usually staid and lodged. 

We do not place so much confidence in other 
things coming from a child, as they did, children 
being so prone to exaggerate and misrepresent ; 
yet it appears the little boy of Avery, after having 
accompanied him on one of his rides, said on his 
return, " Pa kissed Sarah Maria Cornell on the 
road ;" and that the feelings of the gentleman in 
the house were considerably tried upon observingat 
one time a wonderful alteration in the horse usu- 
ally rode by him. His little boy accounted for it, 
by saying, that " the horse kicked his father, and 
he drove two spikes into the floor and tied his 
heels down, and kept him there tw * days without 
anything to eat or drink.* Of course, much was 
said respecting this man which was false : there 
is no one so base but may, after all, be slandered. 
For instance, the story of the mysterious and sud- 
den death of his first wife must have been alto- 
gether false, for we cannot find that he ever had 
but one wife. There is enough of what justly 
belongs to this unhappy man, without any effort 
of imagination to add to it. 

We have but one remark to make respecting 
the intimacy at the house, which is, that if an in- 
trigue commenced at his own house, at that time; 
that if it was indeed true she used to send for him 
at that hour of the night to com^e to her room and 

* It appears that Avery is still famous for his trpatment of horses. Few of his 
cloth would be seen to stop in the open street, get ont, take his coat off, anil beat 
a horse in the manner he has receiitly dune m Bristol. "The merciful manis 
merciful to his beast." Though the storv of the bovm'ehtbe correct, yet it 
was said the appearance of the horse warranted the conclusion that it was so. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 91 

pray with her, she courted destruction, and might 
almost be said to deserve the fate it is supposed 
she met with at his hands. If, on the contrary, he 
stole into her room, without an invitation, the case 
might be a little different. That he Avas there, I 
suppose to be a fact. That she cherished an un- 
consmon regard for him, criminal as that affection 
was in her case, was evinced, as Doct. Wilbour 
observed, "by the absence of resentful feelings." 
It was strange indeed, if she had suffered the in- 
jury she complained of, at the Camp Meeting, 
without manifesting any resentment afterwards, 
she should, on the contrary, uniformly speak of him 
and his family with tenderness, and above all things 
seem not to desire to expose him. It maybe en- 
quired if this U'^ere the case, why did she leave that 
little bitof paper to direct, if she was missing to en- 
quire of him? To that we answer, that our heav- 
enly Father has im.planted a something within us, 
that never fails to warn us of approaching danger: 
some call it "a presentiment of evil." But in 
her case there was something to fear exclusive of 
any resentment: that was, if her tale was true — 
if she had once had poison recommended her, and 
been warned by him who told her not to take it, 
neither to go to Bristol, nor to put herself in his 
power, but to have him come to her fairly and 
honourably, and settle it — if she had received this 
warning, she could not but have some fear. It 
was neither fair nor honourable in the first place, 
to ask a female to go to that cold, lonely place on 
a dark evening. She knew, probably, it was a 
fearful thing under such circumstances, or indeed 
under any, to go there to an assignation. The 
dark deep waters of Mount Hope bay rolled be- 
low, and it would have been easy to give one 



92 FALL RIVER, 

plunge there, as to have poured down a dose of 
tansy oil. 

That she had peculiar feelings of regard for 
this man may be inferred from the speech she 
made to Benjamin H. Saunders also. It does 
not appear there was any positive proof of any 
thing criminal in her conduct while at Lowell, 
by any testimony on the trial, if we except the 
testimony of the physician before named. 

It seems S. M. Cornell was expelled from 
meeting while absent at a Camp Meeting on Cape 
Cod; and Avery tells, "that he advised her to go 
away while the process was going on against her :" 
but if the complaint was made against her previ- 
ously, it was the heighth of impudence, to say no 
more of it, to suffer her to go to such a place, 
where the facilities for vice are so great. There 
cannot be, perhaps, exhibited, a greater proof of 
superstition, than the offer of this girl to make an 
acknowledgement, to the meeting of whaif she, at 
the same time, solemnh' declares herself to be in- 
nocent of, merely for the sake of being in church 
membership: for it was upon those conditions 
she offered it. As though to be out of the pale 
of the church was to be excluded from salvation. 
Her own words were said to be these, in a letter 
to Avery, where she gives a circumstantial and 
satisfactory account of her interviews with the 
physician: — "Yet I will confess all, if I can only 
be continued in the church." Some suppose 
that the desire to be near a certain minister of 
that church was the great inducement, and that 
for his sake, or for the sake of being near him, 
she was willing to endure any disgrace, and would 
have signed any thing but her death warrant. — 
There is one anecdote, which has been related to 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 93 

the vrrlter of this, which proves she could not 
}rave been the abandoned creature represented 
previous to this. S. M. Cornell, at one of the 
places where she lived, worked in the employ of 
two brothers, partners in an establishment. — 
Something had been said in their hearing about 
her not being prudent; and the oldest formed the 
resolution to fmd out how far her imprudence ex- 
tended. He accordingly put himself repeatedly 
in her way, and at last insulted her with the decla- 
ration of his passion, which she resented jfirmly, 
and with some bitter reproaches. (They were 
both Hnarried men.) The older confided the aflair 
to the younger, v/ho felt piqued to try himself. 
He accordingly commenced a regular siege : but 
in the moment when he thought himself sure of 
success, met with a still more severe repulse than 
his brother. Upon comparing notes, they agreed 
it was only because they were married men; but 
as they felt somewhat in her power, concluded 
that it was not prudent to have her there. They 
accordingly gave her a hint her services were no 
longer wanted after which, being questioned with 
xespect to her departure, said "she waaj-ather too 
fond of young men:" though, as the gentleman 
s^nid who related this and who, being in their em- 
ploy, overheard the conversation between them, 
when they agreed to get rid of her, "he did not 
know what proof they had of her being fond of 
yoinisc men^ except that she did not like old ones.^^ 
Various anecdotes too have been related to the 
author respecting the charity, kindness of heart 
and gentle disposition of S. M. Cornell: but they 
would swell this volume beyond the bounds al- 
lotted to a work of this kind. Suffice it to say, 
that from all accounts, it appears her hand was 



94 

ever open to the suffering poor, according to her 
slender means ; that she was liberal to the society 
of which she was a member, and who did not dis- 
dain to receive of the pittance which her labour 
produced, towards promoting Methodism, what- 
ever they might have thought of her character; 
that she was kind to the sick and afflicted ; and 
retained a most affectionate regard towards her 
relatives, through the whole of her long absence 
from them.* 

From Lowell she went to Great Falls, N. H. 
and here the same contradiction occurs with re- 
spect to what was said of her. A very decent and 
respectable young man who boarded with her 
the whole time of her residence there, has testified 
to the author, that he never knew of any thing 
being said or thought there, to her disadvantage; 
that her conduct, and he saw her daily, was as 
becoming as that of any female he ever was ac- 
quainted with. Two respectable females too, 
who saw much of her during that time, testify to 
the same. Likewise at Taunton, where she next 
went, and where she had a place of considerable 
trust, having to keep the books of the weaving 
room, her character and conduct was respectable. 
So persons, who boarded and worked in the same 
room, with her, testified that "she was much made 
of," as he expressed it, and visited in very re- 
spectable company in the place. 

While on a visit to her brother Rawson's in 

* One -woman, who has been very bitter apa'nst S. M. Cornell, and helped, it 
appears, to injure her at Lowell, gave as a reason to the author for thinking 
her ba'^L, that she used to e:o up to Boston, sometimes, of a Saturday afternoon, 
on pretence of attending meetings "to hear good preachinc," asshe called it, 
and return Monday mornmg, " looking completely exhausted ind worn out." 
I was amazed to hear such a reason given, knowing it must be great f-sertion, 
after tending three or four looms throug'' the week to ride t:ventv-five miles 
Saturdry evening, or afternoon, and then attend four or five meeiirrg^ on the 
Sabbath and ride back again next mornitig. Tiiat, 1 have no doubt, was the fact ; 
and if there is any female able to endure it, without feeling fatigac and exhaus- 
tion, and shewing it too, they musl'be hardy indeed. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 95 

Woodstock, it was remarked that her conduct 
was strickly proper by the young men working 
with her brother, as well as by other members of 
the fam.ily ; by customers at the shop and visitors 
at the house ; and especially by Mr. Cornell, the 
Congregationalist clergyman, who, living quite 
near, was often in, and held frequent dialogues 
with her upon the subject of Methodist principles 
and discipline, for which she, of course, was a 
great stickler, and they obswved, defended the 
cause with considerable skill.* 

Previous to the fatal Camp Meeting, at Thomp- 
son, it seems her conduct there was without sus- 
piciovi ; and could she have rested content with- 
out another interview with Avery, it is probable 
this lasv iinal work of destruction might have 
been avoided. We have however the charity for 
her to believe, her intentions at this time to lead 
a new life wer<3 sincere, and that the interview, 
if planned by her, was only to obtain the letter 
of acknowledgement which it seems she had been 
influenced to write. That letter, she found was 
having a fatal effect upon her character, and what 
was of more consequence in her own view, was 
depriving her of communion with the church ; to 
secure which privilege she seems to have written 
it, expecting that the command of scripture to 
forgive all who confess and ask forgiveness, would 
be literally obeyed. By the testimony of Benja- 
min Saunders, who lived there and was in the 
habit of going to the Post Office for her, it ap- 
pears she corresponded with a minister in Bristol, 
previous to the Camp Meeting; who the minister 

* A paper, containing a certificate from the Rev. Mr. Cornell is mislaid ; but I 
recollect It testifies to th« above fact, and to his opinion of her being a christian 
nrerious to the communication made to him by the family, after the C«mp 
Meeting:. 



96 FALL RIVKR 



was admits not of a doubt, especially as she re- 
quested him to keep it a secret, and by no means 
to let her sister know. He recollected the cir- 
cumstance by a speech from her highly charac- 
teristic ; on occasion of carrying one of theui to 
the office, said he, "I would not pay postage lor 
a minister, I should think he was able to pay it 
himself." She answered, " I want to help the 
minister^ all I can." 

Through all the vicissitudes of life woman vAU 
be woman still. Of the tenderness of woman's 
heart man can seldom form an idea ; here was aa 
instance. There can be no doubt that this girl 
had great cause of resentment towards the person 
she had been Avriting to, and very possibly she 
wrote in harsh terms, requiring him to c(nne, and 
bring that letter of acknowledgement vvith him; 
but come to the trial, that resentme^lt could not 
even enable her to lay upon him the burthen of 
paying the postage of a letter. No wonder she 
made so many objections to naming a large sum 
as the settlement Vv^ith her, whi9h the benevolent 
physician of Fall River recommended ; she could 
not endure the causing him inconvenience. That 
fatal tenderness too, doubtless betrayed her at 
the camp ground; perhaps, and let us in charity 
suppose it, she meant from henceforward to leave 
the path of sin, and walk in that narrow one that 
leads to life, and trusted to her resolutions to meet 
and part with him without any actions that virtue 
could condemn ; the sight of him put all her good 
resolutions to flight, and that beguiling tender- 
ness again plunged her into misery and irremedia- 
ble distress. Her only road to safety would have 
been in not seeing him at all. Gone was the 
look of cheerfulness she was wont to wear; it 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 97 

was evident something pressed heavy on her 
heart. The sense of her crime and the dread of 
its consequences at length impelled her to yield to 
the solicitations of her affectionate sister, and 
confide to her the humiliating cause of her grief 
and anxiety; that sister who had but one heart 
and mind with her husband, immediately sought 
counsel of him. "What to do, or how to conduct 
themselves in such a strange case they scarce 
knew, and the brother finally resolved to ask 
ceunsel of his pastor, and subsequently of another 
friend, an attorney in the neighbourhood. They 
advised her immediate removal into the State of 
Rhode-Island where Avery resided; and the 
brother feeling a delicacy about her remaining in 
the shop where his young men were, willingly 
acceded to the plan. She herself proposed to go 
to Fall River and work there in a factory while 
able to work, and until he should make some pro- 
vision for her. Here she lived for about two 
months without reproach or suspicion, being per- 
fectly correct, as every one supposed who saw 
her, in her conduct. In the respectable house 
where she boarded, and where there was a small 
family consisting of females, she was much be- 
loved, having won their regard by the gentleness 
of her manners and the apparent amiability of 
her temper. To the daughter of this family in 
particular, she was in the habit of speaking with 
some confidence, when she showed those cele- 
brated letters of different colors mentioned in the 
trial. This young lady remarked the pink and 
yellow ones appeared to be written by different 
hands, and that one looked like a lady's hand — 
and that S. M. Cornell answered, '*but they are 
both written by one hand, by a gentleman in 
9 



98 FALL RIVER, 

Bristol." This answer the witness was about to 
repeat in court, when she was stopped by the 
prisoner's counsel. She, (S. M. C.) told them 
several times that she was only waiting for some 
money she was expecting to receive, when she 
should leave Fall River. The flutter of spirits, 
which made her on the last day of her life more 
cheerful than usual may be easily accounted for. 
She came out of the mill early and changed her 
clothes, and then probably wrote that little strip 
of paper, "If I am missing enquire of Rev. E. K. 
Avery." Her habitual politeness never deserted 
her; even then v/hile drinking tea, which was 
got early for her at her request, she said, " It is 
not very polite for me to be drinking tea here 
alone I know, before the rest, but I am in such a 
hurry," and turning to the oldest sister, she said 
as she went out, "I think I shall be back as soon 
now, as Lucy returns from the factory." Alas! 
she returned no more. 



CHAPTER VI. 



Of the birth, parentage and early life of E. K. 
Avery, we know nothing, except that we are in- 
formed he was the son of a revolutionary soldier ; 
if that be the case every one must rejoice he was 
spared the fate that threatened him in May, 1833. 
It would indeed be a kind of blot upon the his- 
tory of the brave defenders of our soil, that one 
of their children should come to such an igno- 
minious punishment, since it is the disgrace that 
constitutes the evil with men, though with God it 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 99 

is the sin. We are sorry to say we have so little 
account of the early years of a man who has made 
so much noise in the world ; but from the time 
we can get any thing of his Piistory, there seems 
to be something in almost every place that goes 
to prove him a bad tempered, daring and unprin- 
cipled man. As to his person and address we 
know nothing of them, but we conclude they must 
be extremely imposing, at least to the people he 
is among, since he seems to have been approbated 
and upheld by them on all occasions, except one ; 
it seems he has been baffled once, and that was 
by a woman. Report says he studied the science 
of medicine, previous to his becoming a preacher, 
but whether he ever commenced practice previ- 
ous to the 20th of December is not known; we 
have not heard of any of his performance since 
that date. 

The first we knew of E. K. Avery he is preach- 
ing in Duxbury, Mass. and from thence he re- 
moved to Scituate, Mass. in 1827, and took 
charge of the Methodist society in that place. — 
Among the people who now sat under his minis- 
try was a maiden lady of about five and forty, 
who sustained a very high reputation for piety as 
well as for what they style her gifts. She was 
one of those active, useful women, whose exer- 
tions were always called in, and always freely be- 
stowed, wherever distress of mind or body requir- 
ed relief of any kind. The young resorted to her 
for counsel, and the established christian for en- 
couragement. She was as report said, not only 
a woman active in meetings and by the side of 
the sick and the dying, but what is extremely dif- 
ficult, she supported on all occasions, a character 
for consistency that went far to make her labors 



100 

successful. Of course the new minister soon dis- 
covered the real character of this lady ; he not 
only heard her praises from every quarter, and 
witnessed her zeal, but he was also enabled to ap- 
preciate her excellence by personal acquaintance. 
She was evidently a woman of great spirit natu- 
rally, but so humble and subdued by the influence 
of real piety, that the very belief that this was the 
case could not fail in a sensible and candid per- 
son to increase respect for her. Slie was not a 
woman of dependant circumstances by any means, 
so there was no way to torture her or try her dis- 
position that way ; she was past the bloom of 
youth if not the meridian of life, and thought not 
of conquests — of rivalship and admiration ; so 
there was no way to pique her in those — but 
humbled she must be, something must be done to 
try her temper until she proved herself mortal 
and no better than other folks. The new minis- 
ter took a terrible dislike to her from the very 
first. He thought " the people put [too much 
confidence in her," and averred " that he would 
see she was not made a goddess of." Whether 
her deportment was such as to shame some — a 
standing reproach to some others, who ought at 
least to be as consistent, or whether he thought 
others would rise higher if he fell, or whether 
she was one of those provoking women who have 
the faculty of reading characters at a glance, or 
from whatever cause we cannot say, but certain it 
is, the Rev. E. K. Avery labored from the first of 
his going to Scituate to distroy this woman's good 
name, and thereby lessen her influence; at first 
the dislike was only vented in a few sneering re- 
marks to her disadvantage?, which she immediately 
heard of; those remarks being wholly unprovoked 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. lOl 

could not fail to create a dej^ree of resentment in 
the object of them. During this frame it so chan- 
ced that the minister met her one evening at a pray- 
er meeting, where he happened to call just after 
visiting the house of a parishioner who had lately 
lost his wife, In the course of the conversation 
he observed that " the husband (who was some- 
what intemperate) will soon drown his sorrow." 
The lady upon returning to her lodgings, which 
was with a niece of this bereaved husband, re- 
peated the remark ; it was again repeated and cre- 
ated some little unpleasant feeling towards Avery 
for what they judged rather unfeeling and ill tim- 
ed. His (Averv's) resentment against the woman 
was now at its height ; he had something to seize 
upon, and although she blamed he-i-self exceeding- 
ly for her own imprudence in mentioning his ran- 
dom speechj and with much humility asked his 
forgiveness, &c. yet it nothing mollified his ire. 
His hatred had now broke out into acts of hostil- 
ity, and he commenced writing letters to various 
persons in Duxbury and elsewhere, to try to get 
her expelled from the church, but all to no pur- 
pose. The woman, nothing daunted stood her 
ground manfully, and defied him to the proof of 
what he had asserted, viz : " that she had been 
guilty of lying and unchristian conduct, and exer- 
cising ungodly and unholy tempers." &.c. The 
matter was before the parent church at Duxbury, 
a long time, many letters passed between Avery 
and Mr. Mudge, as well as with others on the sub- 
ject, but nothing could be proved against the wo- 
man, and it finally resulted in her coming off with 
honor, and with a certificate of her good standing. 
How they managed to retain Avery in his stand- 
ing after his failing to substantiate his charges we 
5* 



102 FALL RIVER, 

cannot tell, but that was their business. The cer- 
tificate made no mention of the recent trial and 
its result, but merely stated what thev could not 
avoid stating, that she was in good standing in the 
meeting. — It was as follows : 

DuxBURY, April 12th, 1831. 

This may certify, that Fanny Winsor, the bear- 
er, is a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church 
in Duxbury, and is recommended as such by me, 
the subscriber. 

ENOCH MUDGE, 
Minister in charge of said Churcli. 

The church now located in Scituate has since 
had a recommendation of Miss Winsor, from that 
in Duxbury, signed by Daniel Fillmore, in behalf 
of the church in Duxbury. Report said that the 
friends of the lady were not satisfied with the pro- 
ceedings of the meeting altogether, inasmuch as 
he had no censure passed on him for bringing those 
false charges, and that they wished her to go to 
law for redress, as they thought what he had said 
was calculated to injure not only her religious but 
moral character — and from a letter to Avery which 
she wrote in 1830, it appears she then threatened 
some such remedy, that is as we understand her 
language — The letter was as follows : 

To the Rev. E. K. Avery, 

Scituate, March 24, 1830. 

Sir — I address you from the purest motives of 
my heart, and under circumstances peculiarly ag- 
gravating. Your conduct towards me urges me 
to use my pen, which otherwise would have re- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATirE. 103 

mained silent — this I do in my own defence. — 
The charges against me, in writing from you to 
brother Mudge, he informs me are three. The 
first relates to a circumstance that happened three 
years ago this month,* respecting Benjamin 
James. t Now look at it candidly and see if you 
have experienced the right spirit. As respects 
the case, did I not confess at the time you brought 
up the accusation against me in the presence of 
my sister Susan — that I repeated your words in- 
considerately, and was sorry, and said " any com- 
pensation you requested I was willing to make, 
even at your feet," and you would not | be re- 
conciled — does not this bespeak that you would 
not forgive. Reflect — what does the gospel you 
profess to preach say : "If we offend seventy 
times, and repent and ask forgiveness we should 
be forgiven." Are not these the words of our 
Saviour, whose image we ought to bear. 

The second charge I think brother Mudge tells 
me, was " indulging unholy and ungodly temper." 
This I am confident was a false charge, as I know 
of no tine whatever that I had any conversation 
with you, after that in my shop, in die presence 
of Susan, and I leave it to her if there was any 
thing of that manifested at that time — no, I was 
too much wounded in soul to indulge unholy tem- 
per. Your conversation towards me was like 
barbed arrows. What past God was a witness to, 
and his justice will be satisfied for he judgeth im- 
partially. I can say in his presence and his spirit 
accompanying me, I do feel clear of this charge. — 
I know not what you have been informed by un- 

* This persecution of iMiss Winsor actually continued upwards of four years. 

t The person who Ayery mentioned " would drown his sorrow." 

t Nothing- can exhibit in stronger colors the ridieuloua veneration in which 
they hold their ministers— at his feet truly! ! 



104 

holy people, that are plotters of mischief — they 
must see to it. 

The rest I think was a charge of " talking to 
your disadvantage." This charge is as empty of 
tiuth as the other: The most I have said is this. 
"NVhen tale-bearers have brought to me, v^hat they 
say, you have said, I have replied, " how can I 
hear such a man preach ? that bears such a spirit? 
No I cannot! No nor v. ill not — under existing 
circumstances. And I say so now, unless I view 
the subject differently. ^\r, the many times you 
have been to this place, you have not so much as 
changed a word with me on the subject since the 
time first mentioned, but if I atn rightly informed, 
said behind my back what you had ought to have 
said to my face. I am sure there has not been 
any time since the first awful moment but what I 
should have been glad to have settled the affair 
and buried it in oblivion. 

But sad to relate, you seem to lay the axe at the 
root of my moral and religious character by this 
last move. This prompts me to take proper 
steps to vindicate my own cause, and clear up my 
character. 4 

I am ready to settle it upon any consistent terms 
short of the law, that you are willing to. But if I 
hear no more of you, I shall put it into the hands 
of one authorized to do justice to you and me. 

Take away our good name from among men, 
and you strike a deathblow to all we hold dear in 
this life. Take away our good name from among 
our brothers and sisters in the Church, and then 
this world will be a barren wilderness. But one 
thing — no weapon formed against the child of God, 
can take away our name from the book of life. 
I think defamation of character is an evil not to 



AN AUTHENTIC NARKATIVE. 105 

be overlooked or i)assed by unregarded — therefore 
I feel justified in putting myself in the way to have 
justice.* 

FANNY WINDSOR. 

Abraham Merrill, one of those who swore in 
court at Newport that he knew notliing against 
the character or temper of Avery, was knowing to 
all this transaction ; we must suppose there wt^re 
others who had like knowledge ; and with how 
much truth or propriety could any one say they 
knew nothing against his moral cliaracter or his 
temper, that knew oi*such a diabolical persecution 
of an unoffending female, a defenceless woman, 
who probably was guilty of no real offence against 
him, or any one ; and if she had been, who is to 
set examples of forbearance and forgiveness of 
injuries, if preachers of the gospel are not ? If 
ministers were to commence a general dealing 
with all in their communions who exercise un- 
holy tempers, it is presumed they would have 
their hands full, though in this case there w^ould 
have been one innocent. There was testimony 
sufficient that she endured the bitter things so of- 
ten repeated to her without manifesting any thing 
but sorrow. That she could not consent to hear 
him preach may be attributed to 'principle rather 
than temper. 

The character of Avery for revengeful, angry 
feelings, may be gathered from the circumstances 
of the prosecution, by a brother clergyman. This 
was in the town of Saugus, Mass. and the circum- 
stances are related thus. The Congregational 
Society in that place were at that time destitute of 

* " Justice," indeed— if this injured woman and the Rev, Thomas F. Norris 
have not been amply avenged by a righteous God, they never ca/j be. " Surely 
tbereisaGod that judgeUi the earth." 



106 FALL RIVER, 

a settled minister, and Avery, who was then sta- 
tioned near over the Methodist one, offered to 
preach for them occasionally. The offer was 
politely accepted, and some little time after, a Mr. 
Nurris, who was esteemed as a very amiable and 
pious man, and who was then preaching there to 
the Reformed Methodists, as they are called, (a 
sect of christians who have separated themselves 
from the others,) offered likewise. He too was 
accepted, and preached there much to the accep- 
tance of thecongregatiyn,who were delighted with 
the unassuming piety and evangelical sentiments 
of Mr, Norris, and asked him to continue his la- 
bors among them, whenever opportunity offered. 
The next JSunday that Avery preached there he 
took for his text the passage in Job — " I also will 
declare mine opinion," and commenced an attack 
from the pulpit upon the character of his brother, 
whom he called a thief, and some otiier very bad 
things ; and getting in a passion as he proceeded, 
went on to charge him with individual sins, which 
he undertook to particularize. A part of this dis- 
course, as related^ the writer has forgotten, but one 
was that he had been employed once in a glass- 
house, and stole ware to furnish his own sideboard. 
His hearers who relate the story, remark, that 
*' all this time his face was violent red, and he ap- 
peared to be in a grea t passion." The whole story 
was immediately related to Mr. Norris, Avho pro- 
ceeded to put his character in the care of the law, 
and prosecuted Avery for defamation of character. 
It was tried, and Avery was found guilty, and sen- 
tenced to pay a fine, bat he appealed, and it came 
to the second trial, when Avery appealed it, arrest- 
ing judgement, and taking it out of court, by pay- 
ing a sum of money, the amount of which we did 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 107 

not learn, but our informant says several hundred 
dollars. The Ecclesiastic Council, as they style 
themselves, then took him under their protection, 
and issued a manifesto declaring him entirely 
blameless, and clearing him of all censure. 

After the examination at Bristol, some of the his- 
tory of this transaction got to Fall River, and a 
copy of the examination was forwarded by some 
one to Rev. Mr. Norris, asking for the copy of the 
trial at East-Cambridge. The amazement and in- 
dignation of Mr. Norris and his friends, at finding 
the Merrills had sworn his character was unsullied, 
&LC. &c. together with the belief that the public 
ought to have the facts, induced them to publish 
the following manifesto, which was forwarded to 
Fall River, without the copy of the trial. That 
document he states was sent to the Governor of 
this state. No Governor of this state has received 
it, and by what means it miscarried is not known, 
but it is something that our public functionaries 
ought'to look into. Could it have been taken out 
of the mail between here and East Cambridge ? 
If this book should fall into the hands of Mr. Nor- 
ris, we hope he will himself see to it. The m^an- 
ifesto is as follows : 

TO THE PUBLIC. 

East Cambridge, Feb. J 833. 

Fellow-Citizens, — I have frequently been solici- 
ted for a copy of the trial and verdict in the action 
before the Supreme Court, at its session in Cam- 
bridge, last winter, against E. K. Avery, but have 
hitherto denied. — Those solicitations becoming 
more numerous and pressing, on seeing the strange 
testimony of the Messrs. Merrills, at Avery's ex- 



108 FALL RIVER, 

amination before justices How and Hale, I have 
permitted some of the friends of justice to publish 
a few statements on the case, with some animad- 
rersion on the evidence given by the Merrills, at 
Avery's examination as published by L. Drury. 

I feel no resentment towards E. K. Avery, and I 
write more in sorrow than in anger — sheer neces- 
sity compelled me to shield myself from his asper- 
sions behind the strong arm of the law. And what 
appears like an attempt to cover crime and screen 
the guilty, by men in holy office, seems to render 
it proper the community should have facts. 

The verdict of the jury with their names, signed 
by the clerk of the judiciary, has been forwarded 
to the Governor of Rhode-Island. Avery has paid 
me one hundred and ninety dollars on the verdict, 
and paid his own costs, which probably amounted 
to as much more, as he summoned many witnesses. 
His friends offered in consideration of the abate- 
ment made him, to obtain his confession and re- 
traction, to one of whom I returned the following 
written answer : — In respect to a confession from 
Mr. Avery, it would be highly dishonorable in me 
to extort one from him. The virdict of the jury 
fully shields me from all possible harm from the 
slander of his tongue, completely nullifying its ut- 
most poison ; — rather ought he to humble himself 
before that church of which he is a member and 
minister, upon whose escustcheon he has brought 
a stain, which the good conduct of a long life can 
never wipe off. I respectfully asked justice of 
Mr. Avery, and when tauntingly refused, I noti- 
fied his superior, the Rev. Bishop Hedding, but 
obtained no redress, until I appealed, to a jury of 
my countrymen. Should these faets be denied by 



' AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 109 

responsible authority, the public shall have the 
trial and correspondence. 

The following piece was prepared by a highly 
respectable member of the Middlesex bar, for and 
at the instance of several gentlemen of the coun- 
ties of Suffolk, Middlesex, Worcester, &c. and is 
published by them ; — some expressions of com- 
mendation of the writer are thereby accounted for, 
Fellow-Citizens, your very obedient and 
humble sevant, THOMAS F. NORRIS. 

A pamphlet purporting to contain a report of the 
evidence given on the recent examination of the 
Rev. E. K. Avery, for the murder of Miss Cornell, 
is before the public, and much of it is clearly not 
legal evidence, and has no more to do with the 
question under examination than the history of 
Meg-Merilles. This is our opinion, — others may 
view it differently. But not caring to quarrel 
about mere matters of opinion, or rules of evi- 
dence, upon which even lawyers differ, let us no- 
tice a few facts. 

On page 30 of this pamphlet the Rev. J. A, 
Merrill is made to swear that he had known Avery 
for about 11 years, and that as far as his moral, 
christian, and ministerial character was concerned, 
it is unspotted and unblemished. True it is on a 
cross examination, the Rev. gentleman is forced 
to confess (which he s€ems to have done reluc- 
tantly enough) that Avery, while at Saugus^ got 
into a difficulty w^hich resulted in a prosecutioB 
against him, a verdict against him, an arrest o»f 
judgement, — business settled, and an ecclesiasti- 
cal council after the civil trial, acquitted Avery, 
and gave him a certificate. On page 45y Rev^ A. 
D. Merrill is matie to testify that he had heardi the 
19 



110 FALL KITER, 

evidence of the Rev. J. A. Merrill, and concurred 
with him as to the unspotted and christian charac- 
ter of Avery, and that the prosecution against him 
at Saugus resulted in nothing to impeach his- 
conduct. 

Now to us it is to the last degree surprising that 
these Rev. gentlemen should have testified in this 
wise about Avery's character and conduct. The 
prosecution against Avery was a civil action, in 
which he was charged with publishing a most 
false, malicious and wicked slander against a 
peaceable, unoffending citizen and minister of re- 
ligion. This charge was made in a variety of 
forms, Avery denied the truth of it, but notwith- 
standing this denial, a jury of his countrymen, af- 
ter a long and labored defence, in which he was 
aided by the most eminent council, and a host of 
clerical and lay brethren; and the supposed sanc- 
tity of his own profession, declared on oath that he 
was guilty. This verdict was rendered upon the 
evidence of Avery's own religious and personal 
friends ; and we have higher and better authority 
than the assertion of the Rev. Messrs. Merrills 
for saying it was a " most righteous verdict." It 
is true, that after this verdict was pronounced by 
the jury, the council for Mr. A. made a motion in 
arrest of judgement, on a point of special plead- 
ing, but even this ground was abandoned, and the 
matter settled before the time arrived for a hear- 
ing on the motion, — the object of it therefore was 
clearly to gain time. 

The slander charged upon Mr. Avery was pro- 
ved to be loanton, malicious^ false, and wholly 
unprovoked. No circumstances appeared at the 
trial to justify, excuse, or even palliate this das- 
tardly and wicked attack upon the character of 



AN autheintk: narrative. Ill 

one wlio was an utter stranger to Mr. Avery, and 
whose only offence was that of seceding from the 
great body of Episcopal Pylethodists and organiz- 
ing an Independent Methodist church and society 
in Mr. Avery's neighborhood, The object of Mr. 
Avery seems clearly to have been to prostrate and 
ruin his opponent, and thereby to destroy the 
christian society he had laboured to unite and 
build up. The Rev. Messrs. Merrills were pres- 
ent at this trial, heard the evidence, and knew the 
result; and yet have taken upon themselves to 
swear that this prosecution " resulted in nothing 
to impeach conduct.''' Has it then come, to this, 
tliat it is no stain upon a christian minister's moral 
character to be convicted of uttering falsehood and 
groundless calumny, and of propogating malicious 
islander against his brother \ Is it not robbery to 
take from an innocent man the dearest and best of 
his earthly possessions ? Is he, whose business 
it is to enforce the precepts of the peaceable reli- 
gion of the Holy Jesus, and to preach charity and 
all long-suffering, to gratify his own malignant 
passions, in traducing a brother and neighbour? 
Let these Reverend gentlemen look into that holy 
religion which they profess to teach, and see what 
St. Paul says of the slanderer, and what St. Peter 
says of the "man that brid^eth not his tongue." 
Can that man's moral, christian and nnnisterial 
character be truly said to be unspotted and un- 
blemished, when the records of our highest Judi- 
cial Tribunal show that he has been accused and 
convicted, of an oifence against the peace and laws 
of the lan-d ; against the rights of individuals, (an 
offence originating in malice,) and designed to 
blight the fair fame of an unoffending man ? Let 
these Rev. gentlemen settle this question for them- 



3 12 FALL RIVRR, 

selves. Their consciences are in their own keeping. 
The slanderer, in the estimation of all good men, 
is no better than a robber or an assassin, and it 
will require something more than the ipsedixit of 
two " holy men in holy office" to overrule public 
opinion, the verdict of a jury or the laws of the 
Jand. And before the bar of public opinion, we 
leave the Rev. gentlemen, and Mr. Av^ry also, to 
receive such judgement as their respective cases 
may deserve. 

Thus far the manifesto. We will now go back 
to the hastory of Sarah Maria Cornell. 



CHAPTER VII, 



There is a wonderful mystery in the fact, if it be 
so, that this unfortunate girl should be constantly 
betraying herself to the Methodists, by confessions 
of guilt and self-accusations of sins of a most out- 
rageous kind, while at the same time she was en- 
deavoring to keep in the society, and be in fellow- 
ship with the members, and respected by them, 
striving as though her very salvation depended 
upon it. The trial has been published, and the 
evidence is before the public. Those who wished 
to make her appear a monster of wickedness, have 
continually said all that is possible to say against 
any individual, and said it as a certain preacher 
once said (when he was planing to abuse his 
neighbour from the pulpit) — from a place " where 
she cannot answer them hack again.^^ It is how- 
ever no more than fair that her letters should speak 
;for her, and the author has been at the trouble to 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, i13 

collect all of hercorres}>ondence that can be found, 
consisting of sixteen letttirs written to her mother 
and sister, all, except one, between the year 1S19 
and 1832. It will be seen by these that there is a 
period of more than a year when only one letter 
was written. This was the period immediately 
succeeding- her troubles at Lowell, and may be ac- 
counted for by the agitation of mind which such a 
punishment or persecution, (call it wliich we 
please,) must have occasioned. It appears how- 
ever that she was not entirely unmindful of her 
friends during this period, as by her last letter, da- 
ted March iOth, IH'32, she speaks of a pamphlet 
sent to Mr. Rawson. And by a letter from him to 
her it appears the family received one on the 1 1 th 
of Jan. 1831. Other letters, written at different 
times may have been lost or mislaid, but not by 
design. Her sister's family informed me that they 
were all of a like character, and, resem.bling her 
conversation, full of Methodism, and relating 
mostly to her religious feelings. The papers were 
all given up^vvithout reserve. Both hers and theirs 
were found among the few things at their house. 
The letters of her brother-in-law, Mr. Rawson, to 
her, are in themselves a complete refutation of any 
scandal propagated against him. They prove him 
to be what every one acquainted with him esteems 
him to be, a humble, plain dealing, and practical 
christian. They gave her excellent advice about 
her disposition to rove from place to place, and 
cautioned her of the danger, and expressed great 
satisfaction at her continued assurance of loving 
God and religion, and endeavoured faithfully to 
point out to her the necessity of giving herself up 
wholly in a life of good works, and not to rest in 
a mere profession. There is also among her papers 
10" 



114 FALL RIVER, 

letters from some of her Methodist sisters,expres8- 
ing fellowship and christian affection. 

One of these letters, written in 1827, from, as it 
appears, a pious and quite intelligent young lady, 
styling her worthy sister, &,c. struck me very for- 
cibly as being the year after what they term her 
" disgraceful expulsion from the meeting at Smith- 
field." It appears they had lived together, and 
been for some time in habits of intimacy, and ex- 
presses great desire to have Sarah Maria follow 
her to the place where she then was. One from 
another sister, dated 1829, also addresses her as a 
*' worthy sister," and feelingly asks an interest in 
her prayers, and dwells upon the seasons of reli- 
gious enjoyment they have had together. One was 
directed to her at Dorchester and another Lowell. 
Her letters here follow, copied verbatim. The 
originals are now in the hands of the author of this 
book, and can be seen by any one who has the cu- 
riosity to see them in her own hand writing. The 
first is dated at Norwich. (One letter, No. 1, is 
omitted simply because it is a child's letter, written 
at 12 year's old,) 
Letter, No. 2. Norwich, May 6tli, 1819. 

My dear sister — ^Having an opportunity to send 
directly to you I thought I could not let it pass 
without improving it. My sister, the time is com- 
ing when w^e shall prize time better than we do 
now, when we shall improve every moment of the 
short space allotted us. I have this afternoon re- 
ceived the parting hand of our dear cousin Harriet, 
aunt Lathrop's eldest daughter, she lately married 
Mr. Winslow a missionary — and is to embark for 
Ceylon, never expecting to see her beloved parents 
in this world ; but she is an example of christian 
piety, she has left her native home to go to instruct 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 115 

the ignorant Heathen who sit in darkness worship- 
ing wood and stone.* and know not the God that 
made them, Let us inquire my dear sister who 
made us to differ ? We have the Bible and are 
taught to read it. Let it be our daily prayer that 
God would send more missionaries to the heathen, 
to spread the gospel to those who know it not. 

I am learning the Tailors trade, I have been here 
seven months, and expect to stay 17 more. I hope 
when my time is out I shall come and see you, I ex- 
pected to have come last fall — but was disappoint- 
ed. Mother is well and sends her love to you, 
likewise Granma — Uncles, aunts, and cousins. 
But where is our beloved brother, I have not seen 
or heard from him these twelve months, May God 
Almighty help guide and direct him and us, and 
bring us safe to heaven. Give my best love to all 
my friends, and you must write me as soon as you 
receive this — either by public or private convey- 
ance. We have been so long separated that we 
should not know each other by sight, but surely 
we might have the pleasure of corresponding. 
You must excuse this scrawling and I hope the 
next will be better. Adieu my dear sister 

I remain your ever affectionate and loving sister, 
SALLY MARIA CORNELL. 

No. 3. NoRwicH,August 26th, 1820. 

My dear sister — I received your letter about 
three weeks since but have not had time to answer 
it till now, being very much hurried in the shop. 
Mother has had two letters from our brother since 
I wrote you last. He was then in Natches, but 
has gone to Fort Gibson, and says he has very 

* The late Mrs. Winslow, wife of the Missionary of that name, who died late- 
I7 at OeyloD, was first cousin to S. M. Cornell. 



1 16 FALL RIVER, 

good business, and shall beat home next summer 
if possible. 

Your sister M. with all your friends rejoice at 
the change the Lord has wrought in your heart. 

that he would condescend to visit your poor sis- 
ters heart also. There has been quite a revival 
here, about twenty I believe is going to join the 
Church next Sabbath. Our cousin Leffingwell aunt 
Lathrop's youngest son is very serious, a year 
since they could hardly persuade him to go to 
meeting on the Sabbath, but now he is one of the 
Sabbath school teachers a young lady who has had 
a consumption for about a year, dropt away sud- 
denly yesterday. When we see one and another 
of our friends dropping into eternity it ought to 
remind us, that this is not our home or abiding 
place. It naturally leads us to enquire was they 
prepared to meet death and the judgement ? The 
young lady I mentioned that died yesterday w^'is 
resigned and took leave of all her friends, and said 
she hoped to meet them all in a better world, she 
said she could bid defiance to death, and meet Jesus 
with a smile. O that my feelings were like hers, 
but alas my heart is hard, and I am as prone to sin 
as the sparks that fly upwards. Oh my sister pray 
for me, that God in his infinite mercy pour the 
sweet refreshings of his grace on my soul. 

I have almost finished my trade, my time will be 
out in October, and mother is making preparations 
for our coming to Providence this fall. Oh shall 

1 behold the face of my beloved sister which I have 
never seen — or have no recollection of. 

Although we are strangers we ought not to be 
deprived of the privilege of writing to each other. 
Only think we are only forty-five miles apart and 
we dont hear from each other more than once or 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 117 

twice a year — and our cousin Harriet is three or 
four thousand miles from her parents and they 
have heard from her four or five times, she is well 
and has never regretted devoting her life to a mis- 
sionary cause, she says if she is a means of helping 
bringing the heathen out of idolatry she shall be 
doubly rewarded. 

Mother Grandma Aunts and cousins send their 
love to you, and would be very happy to receive a 
visit from you. Give my love to all my friends in 
Providence. Oh that you and they may be useful 
in this world, and happy in the world to come is 
the prayer of your affectionate sister. 

SALLY MARIA CORNELL. 

No. 4. SozRAviLLE, May 3d, 182L 

My dear sister — I with pleasure resume my pen 
to inform you of my pleasant and happy situation. 
I have been at Deacon Abels all winter and have 
just been able to pay my board, I am now situated 
in a pleasant village near the factory, and between 
the town of Bozrah and Goshen, four miles from 
mother, and three from the meeting-house, we 
have meetings in the factory every Sabbath, and 
when it is unpleasent I attend. I am the only Tai- 
loress for two miles each way, you may of course 
conclude I shall be somewhat hurried with work. 
I wish you were here. I desire to be thankful to 
God for placing me in so pleasant a situation. 

The solemn bell has just summoned another fel- 
low-mortal into eternity but what is to be his fate 
in another world God only knows. It is just four 
weeks since death entered Deacon Abel's family 
and deprived them of a servant — a tall stout robust 
negro whom they had brought up from the age of 
two years, twenty years he lived with them, and 



118 

never associated with any but respectable people, 
as their was but one other negro in the place. 
Deacon Abel's family took his death very hard, he 
was in the vigor of health, often boasting of his 
strength — but when he came to be laid on a bed of 
sickness and the cold hand of death was upon him 
all his strength could not save him, he had just 
finished his years work, and engaged for another 
year, and wanted one week for relaxation, and two 
weeks from the day that his year was up he was 
carried to his grave ; the family did not consider 
him dangerous-^until just before he died, but he was 
imprest with the idea he should not recover and 
regretted that his life had not been better, and 
thought if it should please a just God to spare him 
he should live a diflerent one, it is not for us to 
say whether he is happy or miserable in another 
world, but his death has very solemnly impressed 
my mind. Sometimes I think why am I spared 
perhaps it is to commit more sin, perhaps for some 
usefulness; sometimes 1 think I am no worse than 
others what have I to fear but God says be ye also 
ready for ye know not what hour your Lord will 
come. How will ye escape if ye neglect so great 
salvation. Yesterday I heard a discourse from 
these words "Why halt ye between two opinions, 
choose you this day whom you will serve, if the 
Lord be God serve him, if Baal then serve him." 
1 have thought seriously about this text. 

You will perceive by the date of this letter that 
it is my birth day. Nineteen years has rolled 
round my head and what have I done for God I If 
I were summoned before his judgement bar could 
I answer with a clear conscience to having i)er- 
formed my duty ? I fear I could not. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 119 

I have resolved this year, to leave the world and 
all its glittering toys, and devote the re«t of my 
life to the service of God. I have searched this 
world for happiness, but alas I have searched in 
vain ; it is all a mere show — a broken cistern that 
can hold no water. 

In your last letter I recollect you harboured the 
idea that I was offended with you. Far be it from 
me to be offended with my sister — you look my 
letter very differently from \^'hat I intended it. 1 
received a letter a few days ago from James ; he 
has changed his situation and will not come to 
Connecticut this year, therefore I shall give up the 
idea of visiting you this summer — a year from this 
time if God permits, I shall anticipate the pleasure 
of visiting you, but it is very uncertain. I had 
forofotten to mention I am boarding with one of the 
best of families, a pious woman and steady man. 
Please direct your letters to Bozrahville, to the 
care of David L. Dodge ; there is a post office here 
and it will be more convenient for me to get the 
letters ; write immediately on the receipt of this. 
I am so far from mother that it will not be conve- 
nient for her to write any more. Give my love 
to uncles, aunts, cousins, and all who inquire after 
your affectionate sister MARIA. 

P. S. Don't exhibit this scribbling to any one. 

S. M. C. 

No. 5. KiLLiNGLY, May 20th, 1822. 

Dear Sister — I received a letter from you soon 
after I came to this place, in which you murmured 
at my coming to the factory to work ; but I do not 
consider myself bound to go into all sorts of com- 
pany because I live near them. I never kept any 



120 FALL RIVER, 

but good company yet, and if I get into bad is i» 
owing to ignorance. 

I have been away from home now about one 
year, and have found as many friends as among 
my own family connexions. I have learned in 
whatsoever situation I am in to be content, though 
I have not been so contented here, being far from 
any friend or connexion. 

You wrote me you thought I had better return 
to Norwich as soon as possible, and that you 
should not come to Killingly as long as I staid at 
this factory. You must remember that your pride 
must have a fall. I am not too proud to get a 
living in any situation in which it pleases God to 
place me. Remember that you have expressed a 
humble hope in God, and bear the christian name ; 
learn then to imitate the example of Him whose 
name you bear, and never let it be said of you that 
you were too proud to follow your Saviour's sieps, 
who was meek and lowly and went about doing 
good, suffering the scoffs and indignation of wicked 
men, and finally spilled his precious blood that 
you might be saved. 

I do not expect to find the society here that I 
did in Bozrahville. I have got some acquainted 
with Mr. A — 's family and like them very welL 
I miss Mr. Dodge and his family, and some other 
friends I left there ; shall never enjoy myself so 
well in any other place as I did there. Now my 
dear sister, there is no revival of religion here, 
and 1 have no class in the Sunday school here, and 
it cannot be expected I can enjoy myself so well. 

If you do not come to Killingly until I go to 
Norwich you may not come this year, and las- 
sure you I will never come to Providence first. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 121 

I had a letter from our dear brother a few weeks 
since ; he is in New-Orleans, and he writes that he 
don't know when he shall return to Connecticut. 
I should be pleased could we all meet once more, 
but I don't expect we ever shall. My dear sister, 
may God be your guide — and may his holy spirit 
refresh and comfort you, and that we may both 
meet in heaven is the prayer of your affectionate 
sister, SALLY MARLl CORNELL. 

No. 6. Slatersville, (Smithfied,) 1824. 

My dear brother and sister — Almost two years 
has elapsed since I have written a letter or hardly 
a line to any one, and I scarce know what to say 
to my dear parent — but through the goodness of 
Divine Providence I am alive and in a comfortable 
state of health. I enjoy all the necessaries of life 
and many of its enjoyments. I can truly say my 
dear mother, that the year past has been the hap- 
piest of my life. I have lived in this village almost 
nineteen months, and have boarded in a very re- 
spectable family. My employment has been weav- 
ing on water looms ; my wages have not been very 
great, yet they have been enough to procure a 
comfortable living, with economy and prudence. 
I feel as though I had done with the trifling vani- 
ties of this world — I find there is no enjoyment in 
them and they have almost been my ruin. 

While I am writing perhaps you have long since 
forgotten you have a daughter Maria — but stop 
dear mother, I am still your daughter and Lucre- 
tia's only sister. God in mercy has shown me the 
depravity of my own wicked heart — and has I 
humbly trust, called me back from whence I had 
wandered. Although I had professed religion, 
and have turned back to the beggarly elements of 
11 



122 

the world, and brought reproach upon the cause 
of God — and have Caused Jesus to open his wounds 
afresh, and have put him to an open shame — and 
have followed him like Peter afar off — and even 
denied that I ever knew him. When I look back 
upon my past life it looks dreary, and I feel like a 
mourner alone on the wide world without one 
friend to cheer me through this gloomy vale — but 
when I look forward it bears another aspect. I 
have been made to rejoice in the hope of the glory 
of God. I fee] that 1 have an evidence within my 
own soul that God has forgiven me, and I have an 
unshaken trust in God that I would not part with 
for ten thousand worlds. I find there is nothing 
in this vain world capable of sastisfying the desires 
of the immortal mind. But the religion of Jesus 
is a fountain from whence joys of the most exalted 
kind will for ever flow. I have enjoyed some 
precious seasons since I have been in this place. 
Though destitute of any natural friends, yet God 
has raised up many christian friends of different 
orders — all united heart and hand, bound to one 
home. 

We have a house for worship and have preach- 
ing every Sabbath. 

Sister Lucretia, by the best information I can 
obtain, since I saw you last you have become a 
wife and a mother. I want to see the dear little 
babe ; I hope the cares of a married life has not 
separated your heart from God. I believe there is 
something in religion that is durable ; it is worth 
seeking and worth enjoying, I feel as though I 
could enjoy myself in this life while blest with the 
presence of Jesus, I have found that a form of god- 
liness will never make me happy but I canpraise 
God for the enjoyment of every day's Religion — 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 123 

it is that which will do to live by — and will pre- 
pare us for a dying hour. 

May God bless you and your companion, and if 
I never meet you in this world, may we be pre- 
pared to spend a never ending eternity together in 
the bright mansions of ghny. I want to see Mo- 
ther and if any of you desire to see me — write and 
let me know and 1 will try to come and spend a 
few days with you before long — but whether I 
ever see you again or not, I want you should for- 
give me* and bury what is past in oblivion and I 
hope my future good conduct may reward you. 
I heard that brother James past through Provi- 
dence, if he is with you give my love to him. 1 
should like to see him but never expect to. 
Farewell in haste, yours, 

MARIA S. CORNELL.! 

The kind of self-accusation contained in the se- 
cond paragraph of this letter is very common 
among enthusiastic people when making their con- 
fessions of sin. 1 have heard men of integrity — 
and young innocent girls, get up in meeting and 
roundly accuse themselves of crimes — the least of 
which, if any other had accused them of, would 
have been a mortal offence. Some very sensible 
and intelligent persons have done this in reference 
to the spirituality of the law of God which makes, 
they say, " an angry word murder, and a wanton 
look adultery." (Vide Matthew v. 28.) We ought 
however to deprecate the custom, as it is most 
generally made a very bad use of. 

* Alluding to the affair at Mr. Richmond's and IWr. Hodges'. 

t When baptized by the Methodists, she took the name of Waria, but having 
been accused of changing her name, afterwards resumed the old manner of 
Bigning it. 



124 FALL RIVER, 

No. 7. Slatersville, Sept. 6th, 1825. 

Friday evening half past seven o'clock. 

My dear sister just before the bell rung, I heard 
of an opportunity to send to Killingly to-morrow 
by Frederic Dean, who is going to carry his sister 
home. I was truly pleased with my visit at your 
house, to see you thus happy situated, with your 
family around you. I hope dear sister you will 
never have cause to grieve again on my account if 
I know my own heart, I desire to live so that none 
may reproach me, or say " what doest thou more 
than others ?" I have enjoyed some precious sea- 
sons, since I returned from camp meeting. Some- 
times when I think of leaving Slatersville, it 
strikes a dread upon me. Can I ever leave this 
delightful spot, where I have enjoyed so many de- 
lightful seasons and privileges, it seems to be a 
place highly favoured by God. Elder Tally 
preaches here half the time, he is a powerful 
preacher, reformation follows him, wherever he 
goes he draws about as many hearers as ever John 
N. MafRtt did, some came eighteen miles last Sab- 
bath to hear him. I wish you would send me word 
whether James has gone or not. Give my love to 
mother, tell her there is no small darning needles 
in the store. William and Eliza Nanscaven is 
coming up Christmas, I shall send mother's gloves 
by them. Remember me to Mr. Rawson, I can 
never be thankful enough to him for all his kind- 
ness to me. It is growing late and I must bid you 
farewell in haste, your affectionate sister. 

SALLY MARIA CORNELL. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 125 

No. 8. Slatersville, Dec. 18th, 1825. 

To Mrs. Lucretia Cornell. 

My dear Mother — Once more I take my pen in 
hand to answer a letter which I received from you 
not long since, in which you informed me my 
brother was gone. William ancl Eliza Nanscaven 
is going to Killingly next Saturday. I have been 
making calculations all the fall of coming up with 
them, but 1 am disappointed I have lost so much 
time, I have been out sick a week — and last Satur- 
day I went to Douglas to quarterly meeting — and 
Mr. Osterhold is not very, willing I should stay 
out of the factory so soon again. 

Dear Mother we have good times in Slatersville 
Meeting almost every evening. There are still 
many inquiiing the way to Zion, I have seen this 
summer aod fall past nearly 30 persons own Jesus 
by following him down into the water in the or- 
dinance of baptism, I have seen the aged, the mid- 
dle aged, and the blooming youth, the drunkard 
the profane and the profligate all bow to the scep- 
ti^e of King Jesus and say though 1 have been a 
great sinner I have found a great Saviour. 

I have reason to praise God that ever I was re- 
deemed by the blood of Christ, and that I was 
made an heir as I humbly trust of the grace of God. 
Join with me my dear parents in supplication at 
the throne of grace that I may be kept in the way, 
that I may never return to the beggarly elements 
of this vain world — but that I may adorn the pro- 
fession I have made by a well ordered life and 
conversation. I expect the Lord willing to spend 
my days in Slatersville* I dont want great riches 

* She left the factorv in Slatersville in consequence of its burning down, and 
went to the Branch Factory. Not being contented there, she removed after 
some little time to ftlenden 3lJlls. 

11^ 



126 

nor honours — but a humble, plain, decent, and 
comfortable living will suit me best. 

You mentioned you had some yarn you would 
let me have, I should have been very glad of it, if 
I could have got it — but they bought some at the 
store, and I have got as much as I need at present. 
I wish you would send me word by William if you 
have heard from James, and where he is, that I may 
know where to write to. I received a letter since 
I saw you from our good friend David Austin. 
Rejjuember me to brother and sister Rawson. I 
think my friends never seemed so near to me as 
they do at present. I want to see little Edward 
very much. I expect if it is good sleighing in 
February, to come and spend one night with you 
if nothing prevents. I have no more to write but 
reniain your affectionate child. 

SALLY M. CORNELL. 

P. S. Excuse the blots, I am in a great hurry. 

No. 9. Menfon Mills, 1 mile from ij 

Slatersville, August 6th, 1826.4 

My dear Mother — I left the Branch Factory, 
and came to this place about three weeks since, 
and am v/eaving blue Sattinet. The water was 
so low and filling so scarce, the weavers could not 
do much during the warm weather. The factory 
that is rebuilding at Slatersville is going up 
slowly. I anticipate much in returning to that 
delightful village and seeing it assume once more 
that lustre that shone so brilliantly. 

I received a letter from you some weeks since, 
in which you thought you should not probably be 
at home until September. I think some of going 
to Camp Meeting at Woodstock where I went last 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 127 

year, and if I thought you and -Lucretia would be 
at home I should come that way and spend one 
night with you. Camp Meeting is appointed the 
29th of this month and holds four days, some of 
my Methodist friends from the village mhH proba- 
bly go with me. I am boarding at a very still 
boarding house of about twenty boarders. I en- 
joy myself very well most of the time. I meet 
my brethren and friends at the village about once 
a week. 

I think much of my dear brother and sister 
Rawson in the afflicting dispensation with which 
God has been pleased to visit them. May they 
bear it with christian fortitude, and that it may be 
sancitified to their eternal good is the prayer of 
their sister. Give my best love to them and I 
should be much gratified to receive a letter from 
them. 

My own dear brother — where is he ? I have sat 
down several times with the intention of writing to 
him, but my heart has failed me, I know not what 
to say. If you are still at uncle M's remember 
me to them and tell them I am still enjoying that 
happiness which is the privilege of God's dear 
children to enjoy— feeling a desire to spend the 
remainder of my days in the service of Him who 
has done so much for me. Tell cousin Polly and 
my other friends in Providence, that 1 hope they 
will forget and forgive what is past, and I should 
feel very happy to receive a letter from them. I 
wish you would let me know when you expect to 
return to Killingly. In haste your affectionate 
daughter, MARIA CORNELL. 

"William and Eliza Nanscaven are going to Camp 
Meeting. 



128 FALL RIVER, 

[During the period between this letter and the 
preceding one, S. M. C. made a visit to her friends 
in Providence, meeting by appointment with her 
mother in that place. Whether the factory in 
Slatersville to which she proposed to return, had 
gone into operation at this period, we do not know, 
but when she left Millville or Mendon mills it had 
not, and a young lady of that village had agreed to 
go with her to work at Dedham. The difference 
between weaving cotton and woollen cloth is very 
great, and few pf rsons accustomed to work on ihe 
f<3rmer like the latter. No other reason is known 
for the removal. T'he following letter was writ- 
ten to her mother and friends about six months 
after parting with her, at Providence.] 

No. 10. DoncHESTER, Mass. Sept. 25th, 1827. 

My dearMother Brother and Sister — After wait- 
ing nearly six months for a letter in vain, I take 
up my pen to address those of my dear friends who 
are near and dear to me by the ties of nature. Af- 
ter leaving you at Providence f came in the stage 
to Dedham where I found the young lady as I ex- 
pected from Slatersville. I went to weaving the 
next day at Dedham, where I staid about four 
weeks. I immediately wrote, as I supposed before 
you left Providence, but as I have received no an- 
swer I have reason to suppose you have never 
received it. There was no meeting at Dedham 
that I wished to attend, and I had to board where 
there was sixty boarders, and after four weeks I 
removed to this place, which is about four or five 
miles from the city of Boston. It is a pleasant 
thick settled village. There is one Unitarian, two 
Congregational or Calvinistic, and one Methodist 
meeting in this place. I have spent some time in 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 129 

Boston of late. I frequently attend meeting there, 
at the Bromtielcl Lane Chapel. The Rev. Mr. 
Maffittand Merrill are stationed preachers there. 
Mr. Sias preaches here occasionally and I have 
every thing to make me contented and happy but 
natural connexions, I have been expecting all sum- 
mer to visit you this month on my tour to Ashford 
Camp Meeting — and had engaged a passage in the 
stage, but I found it would be so expensive — and 
I could stay so short a time — that I concluded to 
give it up — and go to Lunenburg with my Boston 
brethren. We started for that place August 28th, 
forty in number, in six private carriages. It is a 
distance of fifty miles. We had good weather all 
the time. Between 20 and 30 ministers were pre- 
sent, and about five thousand people. Nearly forty 
persons professed to have past from death unto life. 
Friday which was the last day of the meeting be- 
tween five and six hundred professors partook of 
the symbols of owr Saviour's dying love. It was 
a circle formed within the tents. The scene was 
truly affecting — it will no doubt be remembered 
by hundreds through time and eternity. 

I reside about half a mile from Mr. Oathman's 
father's that used to preach in Providence, he is 
frequently here and preaches. The good people 
of Dorchester have ever treated me with the great- 
est respect. But it is uncertain whether I spend 
the winter here or in Boston. I have had several 
opportunities to work at my trade there, in shops 
where the tailors hire fifteen or twenty girls to 
make coats and nothing else. I should like to 
come and work a month with Mr. Rawson if I 
could — but I cannot this winter, it would cost all 
of eight dollars to go to Killingly, and back again, 
and my health has been very poor this summer, 



130 

and I have not been able to work all the time, but 
through the goodness of God I am comfortable — 
though much has been said, and I have suffered 
very much from false reports in time past. 

1 enjoy myself as well as I could expect among 
strangers, as 1 have never seen but three faces 
since 1 left Pawtucket* that I ever recollect of see- 
ing before, viz. Mr. Maffilt, Mr. Oathman and Ly- 
dia Knight, from Smithfield. After all that is past 
1 have been sustained and upheld by the mighty 
power of God, and still retain a respectable stand- 
ing in the Methodist F.piscopal Church — and en- 
joy a comfortable degree of the presence of God. 
Dear Mother if you have any regard for me do 
write if it is only two lines, and direct to Maria 
Cornell, Milton Mass. as the Post Office in Dor- 
chester is several miles from me, and I should not 
get it in some time. Milton office is only across a 
bridge — I shall come and see you another summer 
if I live and do well. 

Yours affectionately, MARIA CORNELL. 

No. 11. Dorchester Village, March 2d. 1828. 
To Mrs. Cornell, Sunday noon. 

My dear Mother — Once more I take up my pen 
to write a few lines to my parents, as nearly six 
months have again elapsed since I have heard from 
you. I dont hardly feel reconciled to think so 
many connections and friends as I have in Connec- 
ticut and Rhode Island, that I cannot hear from 
any of them oftener than once in six or seven 
months. Sometimes I think they have lately for- 
gotten me, but I have no reason to complain, I 
have cause to be thankful that it is as well with 

* She had stopped in Pawtucket on her way down, to see some connections 
wsiding there. 



AN AUTHEISTIC NARRATIVE. 131 

me as it is. I am tolerably well and in good spirits, 
thoDgh 1 have never been well enough to work 
one whole month since I have been here. My 
work has been very hard the winter past, and I 
have got almost beat oiif, I have been weaving on 
four looms at the rate of 120 or 30 yds. per day, 
at 1 half cent per yard, my board and other ex- 
pences are considerable here, I feel a good deal 
attached to the people in this place, being sur- 
rounded by some very dear friends, I have a very 
pleasant boarding house, and every thing around 
me to make me contented and happy. It is about 
one year since 1 have seen any of j^ou, though to 
me I^rust it has not been altogether an unprofit- 
able one ; my enjoyment has been great — and my 
privileges very many. I long to see my brother 
and sister, and the dear little babe, and I have 
been seriously thinking of visiting Connecticut the 
summer coming, if Mr. Rawson expects to stay in 
Killingly another year and it should be agreeable 
to you all, I think I shall come and spend a week 
M^th you some time in the course of the summer. 
You will please to let me know before the first of 
April, as I want to know how to make my ar^ 
rangements. 

There has been several shocking cases of sui- 
cide within a few months here, one of which a 
man about 30, cut his throat yesterday a few rods 
from me, he is to be buried this afternoon, he 
was intoxicated. I have not yet felt as though I 
could see him, it brings so fresh to mind the mur- 
der at Smithfield, I felt as though I had rather not 
see him. 

About the first of February a young man shot 
himself before my face and eyes, I was looking 
out of my window. He tied himself to a tree and 



132 FALL RIVEE, 

placed the gun to his breast, and before any one 
could get to him he made way with himself. A 
girl belonging to this establishment threw herself 
into the river, after remaining two days in the' wa- 
ter slie was found, the most awful sight I ever be- 
held. How short and uncertain life is, it van- 
ishes like the early cloud and the morning dew. — • 
It is time to go t3 meeting and I must close.- 
Give my last love to Grindall and Lucretia, and 
tell dear little Edward aunt Maria wants to see 
him very much. 

Adieu, I am your affectionate though unworthy 
child. MARIA CORNEX.L. 

No. 12. Dorchester Village, 28th 1828. 

I received yours dated March 18th and was glad 
to hear you was all well, my health is pretty good 
at present, you mention you expect to visit Nor- 
wich this summer, I wish it was so that I could 
come and go with you, but I do not think it will 
be possible, as 1 have lately given five dollars for 
the purpose of erecting a new Methodist meeting 
house in this town, which is to be built by sub- 
scription, and you had better make your calcula- 
tions to go to Norwich as early as you can as you 
will probably stay some time. I expect to be in 
Killingly somewhere about the 20th of August 
and I should be sadly disappointed if you was 
gone. 

You will please present my best resj)ects to un- 
cle and aunt Lathrop, tell them that I long to see 
them, and if it is my aunt's wish to see me I 
should be pleased to have her write by you. I de- 
sire likewise to be remembered to the Rev. David 
Austin, tell him I wrote to him some months 
since, but as he has not answered my letter I con- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 133 

elude he has forgotten or wishes to forget me. — - 
I likewise desire to be remembered to Deacon 
Able and his wife, Mr. Huntington and his wife, 
and particularly to Lucy Able, and all others who 
enquire after your daughter Maria. I wish you 
to write me immediately on your return to Nor- 
wich, and if you cannot be at home the time I 
have set, you must let me know. 

Adieu, with my best love to all — your affection- 
ate daughter, MARIA CORNELL. 

No. 13. Lowell, Jan. 11 th, 1829. 

To Mrs. Cornell 

JMy dear Mother — It seems a long time since I 
have heard from you, and I almost begin to think 
you have forgotten me or you would have written 
before this. I have written two letters, and sent 
two papers since I have resided in this place, and 
not received a line from any of you. I hope you 
will consider 1 am a stranger in a strange land, 
exposed to sickness and death. Last Saturday 
night, about twelve o'clock, I was called a second 
time to witness a five story factory with all its 
machinery enveloped in flames. It was a bitter 
cold night, and with great difficulty they made 
out to save tlie others which stood on each side — 
there were five of the same bigness in the yard. 
The middle one caught at the furnace, and in less 
than three hours it was burned to the ground. I 
expected to have seen the whole thirteen, with 
the whole Corporation swept by the flames. But 
through tlie goodness of that God who rules the 
elements — although the air was keen and cold — 
it was still as in midsummer. Th** damage is 
great, but the distress is nothing to what it was in 
JSlatersville — as each factory supported itself. — 
12 



o4 

No one was personally injured. It was my lot to 
remove on the other side of the river, about half 
a mile distant. 

I feel measurably happy and contented, but do 
long to return to Connecticut to see my friends — 
but when 1 shall is unknown at present — think I 
shall never set any time to come, but hope I shall 
next summer if health and strength permits. 

I want you should write as soon as you receive 
this — if you never do again — and inform me how 
they all do at Norwich. My best respects to my 
brother and sister — I hope they are doing well — 
and the children ; with the sincerest ajffection I am 
your unworthy daughter. 

MARIA. CORNELL. 
No. 14. Sabbath morning, Lowell, May 3d, 1829, 
Mrs. Lucretia Rawson. 

Dear sister and friends — I take up my pen once 
more to inform you, that through the mercy and 
goodness of God, I am spared to see one more 
anniversary of my birth. Twenty-seven years of 
my short life has rolled on to eternity, and I am 
still on the shores of time, a probationer of hope, 
and enjoy the day and means of grace. More 
than two years have past by since I have seen any 
of you, or indeed scarce seen one individual that 
I ever saw before, but still I am contented and 
happy. I am surrounded by many dear friends 
who are near and dear by the ties of friendship 
and grace, and I feel much attached to the place 
and people here, and the religious privileges I 
enjoy are much greater than they have ever been 
before. But still I often look back and think of 
my natural connections in Connecticut and Rhode- 
Island, and loner to be with you. I have been 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 135 

thinking of coming to see you for two summers 
— I feel a greater desire to see you now than I 
ever have done. I begin to think if I do not 
come to Killingly this summer I never shall. I 
received a letter from mother about four months 
since in which she mentioned she thought I was 
a moving planet, but I would tell my dear mother 
that I do not think I have moved much for two 
years past. I staid in Dorchester more than a 
year, and it will be a year the 17th of this month 
since I came to Lowell — and more than all this 
tell mother she must remember that I am con- 
nected with a people that do not believe in tarry- 
ing in any one place longer than a year or two 
years at most at any one time — and I am with 
them in sentiment believing with the Apostle that 
we should be as strangers and pilgrims having 
here no continuing city or abiding place, but 
seek one to come. 

With regard to my views and feelings respect- 
ing religion, they are the same as they have been 
for two years past. I was a great sinner but I 
found a great Saviour. Tis true I had made a 
formal profession of religion, but when I was 
brought to see and feel the necessity of being 
deeply devoted to God, my views and feelings 
were vastly altered. I am satisfied for one that 
a form of godliness will never prepare a soul for 
the enjoyment of heaven. For "great is the 
mystery of godliness. God manifest in the flesh 
— ^justified in the spirit — believed on in the world, 
and received up into glory." Perhaps my friends 
may think strange that I chose a people different 
in their views and opinions from that which any 
of my friends have embraced. But let me tell 
you my dear sister that the Methodists are my 



136 FALL RIVER, 

people — with them by the grace of God I was 
spiritually born — with them I have tried to live, 
and if ever permitted to enjoy the happiness of 
the blest in heaven shall probably praise God to 
all eternity. I see my beloved sister a fulness in 
the Saviour, and I believe it is the privilege of 
the child of God to enjoy all the depths of hum- 
ble love. 

It seems inconsistent to me for the professed fol- 
lowers of the meek and lowly Jesus, who have said 
by their profession that they have bid farewell to 
the worldto follow its customs and fashions. It has 
appeared to me some time that it was good for the 
proud heart to be adorned with the modest livery 
of God's dear children, and to have a daily evi- 
dence that our witness is in heaven and our re- 
cord on high. The bell rings for meeting and I 
must draw my letter to a close. If nothing more 
than what I know of prevents I shall be in Kil- 
lingly some time between the ^middle of August 
and first of Sept. I do not know why you or 
Mr. Rawson have not written to me. I want one 
of you to answer this previous to the first of June 
and let me know what your wishes are, and I 
shall act accordingly. I am affectionately your 
sister, MARIA CORNELL. 

P. S. I am obliged to write where there are 30 
or 40 boarders a gabbling — so excuse mistakes. 

No. 15. Lowell, Jan 17th, 1830. 

To Mrs. Cornell, 

My dear Mother — After waiting for more than 
eight long months for an answer to a letter that I 
wrote you last spring, I once more take up my 
pen to address you. You wrote me then you 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 137 

were going to visit your friends at Norwich, and 
that you would write me immediately on your re- 
turn, but as 1 have never received a line from that 
time, 1 have concluded that you were there or 
were sick or dead, for it appears to me if you 
were in the land of the living and possest a pa- 
rent's feelings you would have written before 
this. When 1 last wrote to you that if the Lord 
spared my life and health I should visit Connecti- 
cut in August last past. A long time I waited 
for your return from Norwich, thinking you 
would v>^rite and let m.e know, but at length con- 
cluded it was neither your wish nor that of my 
brother and sister that I should visit Rillingly — 
but enough of this — I will cease to trouble your 
minds with such painful feelings. Not a day has 
rolled over my head since I left you but what I 
have thought of home, and the dear friends I have 
left many miles from this. I can tell you that 
although deprived of every earthly connexion or 
even of a correspondence with them, and one 
hundred miles lies between me and the friends of 
my youth, still I am contented, still I am happy, 
the present witness of an indwelling God fills my 
soul, and I am v/alking hand in hand with a large 
circle of dear friends to Mount Zion the city of 
the living God. 

My situation is as pleisant as I could expect. 
i have daily blessings heaped upon me. I am 
fed from day to d-ay like the ravens, and I can 
say to you to day I am happy in the enjoyment of 
the love of God and I anticipate one day though 
separated from the society of my friends here be- 
low, meeting them in the kingdom of God. Glory 
to God for religion that makes the soul happy, a 
religion that brings peace and tranquility will 
12* 



138 FALL RIVER, 

prepare the soul in the language of the Psalmist 
to say — " Though I walk through the valley of 
the shadow of death I will fear no evil — for thou 
art with me, thy rod and thy staff comfort 
me." I left Lowell last May on account of my 
health and staid until Oct. in Boston and worked 
at my trade, except what time I was gone down 
on the water to Cape Cod. I went to Camp 
Meeting in August, as usual was gone ten days, 
cast anchor three days — went ashore three miles 
from where we set sail, having in company up- 
wards of two hundred, fourteen of which were 
Methodist Ministers. Had about twelve sermons 
preached on board, and one on the shore — dug 
clams — had plenty of good codfish, crackers and 
coffee — and on the eleventh day reached Boston 
wharf in better health and better spirits than 
when I left — having had about six good hours 
sleep in ten nights. Just at this moment one of 
brother Rawson's Camp Meeting stories has popt 
into my head and methinks I hear him say, " Well 
Maria this is one of your Camp Meeting scrapes." 
Let me tell you my dear brother I love them now 
as well as I did five years ago. Yea far better — 
for I have known real good produced by them. 

Time reproves me and I must draw to a close 
by saying dear mother do write me immediately, 
dear brother and sister do write and let me know 
whether you are in the land of the living, whether 
you live in Killingly — whether you prosper in 
spiritual and in temporal things. As to myself I 
have enough of the good things of this life. I 
brought nothing into this world, and I expect to 
carry nothing out, a stranger and a pilgrim here. 

My best wishes and most fervent prayers will 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 139 

ever attend my dear parent. Once more I say- 
dear mother write to me, direct to Lowell, Mass. 
Your daughter, 

MARIA CORNELL. 

No. 18. Lowell, July 4th, 1830. 

To Mrs. Cornell, 

My dear mother — T lake this opportunity to 
acknowledge the reception of two letters one of 
which I received last week. You say you should 
like to have me come to Killingly this summer. 
Last summer I made my calculations to visit you, 
and should have done so if you had written — but 
I have not thought very seriously of visiting you 
this summer, until I received your last letter. I 
then thought I should come immediately, but 
finding my engagements such that I could not be 
absent from here more than a week or ten days 
at most — I have concluded that the. time I should 
stay would be so short — the expense would be 
more than it would gratify either of us. I am now 
preparing to go down on the water to camp meet- 
ing where I went last year. My health is tolera- 
bly good for the season, I never enjoyed my 
health better than after I went on the salt water, 
although I was very sea-sick. It is my intention 
now to spend two or three weeks with you in the 
spring, if life, health and strength are spared me. 

I have been in Lowell so long that I should feel 
lonesome any where else. My love to my sister, 
tell her I long to see her and the children. I shall 
write to Mr. Rawson as soon as I return from the 
Cape, though I never received a line from him or 
Lucretia since they were married, but I expect 
my sister's time is pretty much taken up with her 
children. 



140 FALL RIVER, 

You will please inform me in your next if you 
have heard any thing from my brother James. — 
The bell is ringing- for meeting and I must close. 
I will send this piece of paper, it was thought it 
resembled me when it was taken — but I v/ear my 
hair in my neck short now, and it does not look 
so natural. 

I am your affectionate, though absent child, 
MARIA CORNELL. 

No. 17. Taitnton, March 10th, 1832. 

To Mrs. Cornell, 

My dear mother — -I sent a little pamphlet to 
Mr. Rawson a few days since but 1 dont know as 
he will understand what 1 meant, I pitched my 
tent in Taunton last fall, about the time of the 
riot in Providence, I should have written before, 
but I knew I could not make 3-ou a visit in the 
winter, for this reason I kept still. I am now in 
very good business, and I do not want to loose 
my place, which I must do if I come to Killingly 
at present. You will probably wish to know 
what business I am in, I am hooking up, and 
folding cloth, and keeping the weaving room 
books, I have the whole charge of the cloth and 
my employer is unwilling I should be absent 
even for one day, though I sometimes have two 
or three hours leisure in the course of the day, I 
think however I shall get leave to come and see 
you at Providence, if you could come there and 

meet me at uncle M s, I will set a time, and I 

"wish you to write me immediately — whether it 
will be convenient for you to come, I want to see 
Mr. Rawson and Lucretia, I hope I shall some- 
time in the course of the present year. I will 
meet you in Providence, the 18th of May, or 15th 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 141 

of June, just which will be most convenient for 
you, I cannot leave the first or last of a month. 
Your daughter in haste, 

S. M. CORNELL. 



CHAPTER VII L 



The circumstances detailed in the life of Avery, 
need little comment ; every one must see in the 
persecution of Miss Winsor, and the slander of 
Rev. Mr. Norris, that Avery was a man of wick- 
ed, and revengeful, and persecuting temper; and 
his frequent closettings in the fomous study with fe- 
males, and tlie sad and grieved appearance of his 
wife, speak volumes. When apprehended for the 
slander against Mr. Norris, he was taken from the 
desk during a prayer meeting, by Mr. Kimball, a 
sheriff at Lowell, and was so much frightened as 
to faint, and several persons then made the re- 
mark, that he probably feared it was for some very 
different offence he was apprehended. But when 
put under arrest at Bristol for the alleged murder 
of Miss Cornell, it was said he exhibited great 
firmness, and during his trial discovered no signs 
of fear and but little agitation. 

To pass any comments upon that trial after the 
able Strictures published by " Aristides," would 
look like vanity indeed, yet a few facts which have 
come to the knowledge of the author it may not be 
amiss to mention, particularly as many who read 
this may not have seen the ingenious and masterly 
criticisms of the trial referred to. Preliminary to 



142 FALL RIVER, 

the facts we are about to state, we will just make a 
short extract from that work. 

*' Never was a criminal trial instituted and car- 
lied through in this country in which so much 
baseness was manifest, so much chicanery practis- 
ed, the public, the government, the court and the 
jury, so deeply insulted, nor an accused man ac- 
quitted with such a chain of circumstances against 
him. The whole machinery of the Methodist 
church has been brought into operation and its 
artillery made to bear on the battlements of the 
hall of justice. Perjury, base and foul has been 
committed on the stand, under the sanction of a re- 
ligious garb to piotect a wretch from pujiishment." 

How much of perjury was practised on the stand 
we are unable to say, but certain it is there was 
great exertion made to prevent witnesses testifying 
against the prisoner, by his friends the Methodists ; 
most unwarrantable means were used to prevent the 
truth coming out. The circumstance related by 
Aristides respecting a sheriffof Newport having to 
run a race with a Methodist minister, of nine miles, 
to see who would get there first, the sheriff to sum- 
mon her or the preacher to prevent her, is strictly 
true, and that after all the vigilance of the sheriff, 
the parson won the day and arrived there iirst, 
and when the sheriff came, the woman (a Mrs. 
Brownell if we recollect right) pretended to be too 
sick to go ; what her testimony would have been if 
let alone wiido not know, but if we are to judge of 
its importance by the violent efforts made to stop 
her going, we must presume it to have had great 
bearing upon the case. A similar instance occurred 
in Thompson, (Conn.) A Mrs. Patty Bacon, a wit- 
ness for the prisoner, stated some circumstances 
which she said occurred at the Thompson Camp- 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 143 

Meeting, of a very different complexion from the 
story told by her in Court. Mrs. Bacon's daugh- 
ters, thinking it of some importance to tlie case 
communicaled it immediately to the friends of the 
deceased, but before they or the counsel for the 
government could have a chance to converse with 
her, she had had a conversation with some of the 
Methodist clergy, and when she was afterwards 
interrogated upon the subject, denied every word 
of it, and that she had ever said so, the testimony 
of her two daughters and son-in-law to the contra- 
ry notwithstanding, and was afterwards found on 
the stand testifying that " she had suspicions of 
the situation of S. M. Cornell at the Camp Meet- 
ing," to the amazement of her own family, who 
had never heard any suspicions mentioned from 
her before. The statement she made to her two 
daughters and son-in-law, was this ; "That a very 
tall man with a dark frock coat, and broad brimmed 
hat whom she took to be a Methodist minister, 
(she did not then know Avery) came to the Muddy 
Brook lent three times, Thursday, enquiring for 
Sarah Maria Cornell, and that she afterwards saw 
the same man conversing with her without the 
tent." All this she stoutly denied after the above 
mentioned conference. This woman was a mem- 
ber . f the Methodist church. Again a Mr. Wind- 
sor, a respectable innkeeper in Dudley, was stand 
ing on the west side of ihe camp ground on the 
memorable Thursday afternoon near the time of 
the blowing of the horn, with a Mr. Jason or Jud- 
son Phipps, and a gentleman and lady passed them, 
when Windsor enquired who they were, and was 
answered by Phipps that it was a Mr. Avery and 
Miss Cornell, and added " I am watching them.'* 
Phipps afterwards in Windsor's bar room recalled 



144 FALL RIVER, 

the circumstance to mind, and in presence of sev- 
eral persons said, "that man was Avery and the 
woman Miss Cornell, I know them both." It got 
out of course that he had said so, and when the 
gentlemen in search of evidence for the govern- 
ment called on him, the following dialogue took 
place. 

Question. — " Did you tell Mr. Windsor those 
persons walking together were Mr. Avery and 
Miss Cornell ? 

Answer. — " I might and I might not." 
Question. — " Did you or did you not say in an- 
swer to the question of Wiidsor, * who are those V 
say it is a Mr. Avery and Sarah Maria Cornell, 
and I am watching ihem ?" 

Answer. — " I might and I might not." 
The same answer was invariably returned, and 
it was all they could get out of him, until the gen- 
tlemen were obliged to give it up in despair. JNo- 
thinof could be drawn from him. 

Mr. Asa Upham, a sober industrious man, said 
to be a man of property and respectabiliiy, said 
he saw and knew Avery and S. M. Cornnll, and 
saw them walking arm and arm together, in the 
woods near the Camp ground. This person went 
to testify at the trial, and found the Methoilists 
had procured three persons to swear him down, 
and having no means there to testify to the char- 
acter of these witnesses, he would not stay. 
Being an inhabitant of another State they could 
not detain him. What sort of persons the Metho- 
dists had employed to testify against the veracity 
of this man may be gathered from the lact, that 
two of them were so intoxicated before they got 
half way from Providence to Thompson, as ta be 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 145 

scarce able to continue their journey. We can 
state this fact without quoting " Aristides." 

The attempts to brow beat witnesses in Court, 
to confuse and perplex them, so as if possible to 
cause th*^m to falter or contradict themselves on 
the stand, was another most ungentlemanly un- 
manly and unchristian proceeding, and was proba- 
bly carried to a greater extent by the prisoner's 
counsel than has ever been attempted in any crim- 
inal case in this country, at least it is believed so 
by nineteen twentieths of the persons who aiiend- 
ed the trial ; and when the witnessf's chanced to 
be persons of ^o much firmness that this was deem- 
ed impossible, either some one was brought up to 
impeach their character for truth, generally, or to 
swear that they had stated different to them at 
some other time. 

Among the witnesses tampered with, there was 
none perhaps who underwent a more fiery trial 
than Mrs. JSarah Jones. As her name is men- 
tioned several times in the trial, she will be readi- 
ly recollected, but as the whole story cannot be 
perfectly understood from that that is told, and 
the whole is not related, we will give the narra- 
tive as she has given it to us, accompanied with 
her certificate to the truth of it. 

The Kev. Mr. Drake, while enquiring in that 
neighbourhood if any body had seen Avery, heard 
her say she saw a man in the morning; he want- 
ed to know why it was not as easy for her to say 
it was in the afternoon as morning. By this 
means Avery and his counsel became possessed of 
the fact that Mrs. Jones had seen a stranger pass 
their house in the neighborhood of the coal mines* 

♦ Perhaps there is not a set of peop'e In New.Eneland more primitiTe in their 
maunera tn&n tome on thia part of the Islaud. t£« followioir lines were com* 

13 



146 FALL RIVER, 

or rathpr on the route to it, in a very early state of 
the business, directly after he was put under ar- 

posed it is said by an old lady over eiehty ye«rs of age, in the neighborhood of 
the coal mines. We do not know when we hnve taken up any thing that sounded 
so i/iuch likeolden time ; if it amuses the readers of this book as much as it did 
the author, it will well repay them the trouble of reading it. 

" Young virgins all a warning take 

Remember Avery's knot [spelt not.3 
Enough to make your heart to ache, 

Don't let it be forgot. 
You mothers that have infants 

To sympathize and mourn, 
Such murder never was done here ^ 

Or ever yet was known. 
He killed the mother arxi the child^ 

What a wicked man was he ; 
The devil hf-lped him all the while, 

How wicked he must be. 
He dragged her around upon the ground 

Till she no noise could make 
Contrived a lot— tied Avery's knot 

And hung her to a stake. 
The devil he was standing by 

A laughing in his sleeve, 
It is so plain he can't deny, 

He must not be reprieved. 
He preached the gospel night and day ; 

What a wicked man was he ; 
The devil helped him to preach and pray ;. 

How wicked he musi be. 
How could he stand to preach and pray 

With murder in his heart ; 
The devil helped him day by day, 

And he will make him smart. 
Methodism he did profess 

For that was his belief. 
How can he ever take his rest. 

He must not be reprieved. 
Hang him, hang him on a tree 

Tie around him Avery's knot 
Forever let him hanged be 

And never be forgets" 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 147 

rest, and previous to the examination at Bristol, 
and they sent for her to come to his house. When 
arrived there, she was very cordially greeted by 
Mr. Avery, who introduced her to the presiding 
Elder as " one of his witnesses, who saw him on 
the Island,''^ and she was asked to relate the cir- 
cumstances in presence of his attorney and the 
others. This she did. She had been looking out 
all the morning for the return of a brother who 
had been living at the eastward, and was expected 
back on that day. Between 1 1 and 12 o'clock she 
saw a man come through the white gate, and come 
within ten or fifteen rods of her. She described 
his course by answers to questions,gave an account 
of his route, and of the country, which the counsel 
traced by chalk marks on the floor as fast as she 
described it. Thus did the simplicity of this wo- 
man furnish a pretty correct map of the country. 
But unfortunately, the man she persisted she saw 
in the forenoon ; and when she came out, Avery, 
who went with her to the door, said in passing the 
entry, laying his hand on Mrs. Jone's shoulder, 
and looking imploringly in her face, " My life is 
worth mjore to me than a thousand worlds, and 
my life depends upon my witnesses — can't you 
recollect Mrs. Jones that it was in the afternoon ?" 
but, "say nothing," he added, to which Mrs. 
Jones answered she would not, and as she says 
kept her word until circumstances made it imperi- 
ously necessary she should disclose this interview, 
and the conversation that took place. 

On the day that Mrs. Jones' testimony was re- 
quired, at the examination of the prisoner in Bris- 
tol, she was brought over and was stopped at the 
house of a Mr Tilley in Bristol ; where a Rever- 
end gentleman met her, she says, at the door, ex- 



148 TALL RIVEB, 

claiming, " now Mrs. Jones, you must remember 
it was in the afternoon when you saw the man, 
for Oliver Brownell has just sworn he saw the 
same man, and it was in the afternoon.''^ For a 
moment she said she felt almost bewildered, but 
the firm conviction that she had stateci nothing 
but the truth, and that if there were ever so many- 
men of that description seen in the afternoon, 
the one she saw was in the morninff. Directly, 
some one came up to lier and shook hands, saying 
*' we have been to tea, and Mrs Jones here has 
not : you will be so ^rood as to get her some, will 
you not — as soon as possible ? " and the good sis- 
ters hurried lo get her tea, overwhelming her with 
civilities. The t(a was already on the table, and 
the lady about to partake of their hospitality, when 
she was called for to the court. Two of the 
daughters of mine host volunteered to accompany 
her, thinking she would feel intimidated to go 
without any female, and on the way, short as it 
was, endeavoured to influence her to say it was in 
the afternoon. One says, " well, you saw broth- 
er Avery, it seems, on the island ? " " No, I don't 
suppose it could have been him," said Mrs. Jone?, 
*' the man I saw was in the morning." •'Oh it 
must have been him," said one, " it could not have 
been any body else ; and you must try to remem- 
ber it was in the afternoon." By this time the 
trio had arrived at the scene of action, where the 
matter was put upon oath ; and Mrs. Jones descri- 
bed the stranger, who really, from her description 
must have borne some feint resemblance in per- 
son to the prisoner. But alas ! the stubborn wit- 
ness would not say it was in the afternoon : after 
all the examining, cross examining, and twisting 
of evidence, nothing could be got out of her but 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 149 

the same old story, *'it was in the forenoon." — 
Was there ever such obstinacy heard of? that so 
many civilities shouhl have bven tlirown away ! — 
But so it was : and the woman was conducted 
back to the house of Mr, Tilley, where she had 
engaged to return to tea, hurt and abashed by the 
altered looks of her now silent guides. Nothing 
was said, except as one looked mournfully upon 
her, and as she thought, reproachfully, and said 
*' we were in hopes you would have remembered 
it was in the afternoon.^^ Poor Mrs. Jones went 
in with a heavy heart, feeling that she had disap- 
pointed the hopes of the prisoner's friends, but, 
(unable by any sophistry she could imagine, to 
make out that between eleven and twelve o'clock 
was in the afternoon) with an approving con- 
sceince. She said the young ladies passed into 
the other room and were followed by one and an- 
other. There was a whispering conversation go- 
ing on there, and each, upon returning, wolild eye 
her with scornful and angry looks. It seemed, 
she said, as though the tea never would be ready, 
but at length she was called. " Never," said the 
poor woman, "did I eat a meal before that I 
thought was begrudged to me." But at length, 
she said, she took courage, and feeling tired and 
faint, resolved to " drink as much tea, and eat as 
much as she wanted to:" directly after which 
she took leave of her now ungracious hosts and 
went to a tavern, and staid all night, and rose on 
the following morning and returned home : — a dis- 
tance of four miles including the ferry, which she 
had to give eight cents to cross. From this time 
Until after Avery's flight, and his being taken 
again, nothing could exceed the scornful and su- 
percilious manners of the Methodists to this wo- 



150 FALL RIVE«, 

man, by her description, whenever she met any of 
them. Her own expression was, *' they turned 
up their noses at her, and would not speak." But 
when Avery, after his flight, was pursued and ta- 
ken again, to her amazement, all at once their 
manners changed. Whether they had pouted it 
out till their resentment had worked itself ofl", or 
whatever was the cause, they now began to relax 
the muscles of their faces, and not only to give her 
the time of day, but even to shake hands very cor- 
dially and enquire after her health. Behold a po- 
lite letter arrived from Bristol, dated 28th March, 
enclosing three dollars ; tlie letter states that it en- 
closes the fee for travel and attendance in the case 
of the State against E. K. Avery, but does not 
mention the sum— the sum enclosed was three dol- 
lars, she states, and it appears she opened it in the 
presence of another person. When the trial came 
on at Newport, she was again summoned by the 
prisoner to testify. She was in the State and was 
obliged to go. The person, a Methodist, who 
went to carry her, and she said to him, " what 
did you come for me for, my evidence can do Mr. 
Avery no good, for the man I saw Avas in the morn- 
ing." " Why we were in hopes Mrs. Jones, you 
would remember it was in the afternoon,^^ was the 
answer. Arrived at Newport she was conveyed to 
the house where the Lowell witnesses were 
quartered, where she was again hampered to say it 
was in the afternoon when she saw the man on the 
island. She said the witnesses were shut up to- 
gether in the front room of the house, and practis- 
ing most of the evening to try to make the clove 
hitch, the Whitney girl and all, and that they ask- 
ed her to show them. '* I cannot for I never saw 
one made in my life," she answered. " I did not 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 151 

state this circumstance to the court," said she in 
her narration, " because I did not then think it of 
any importance, but when I found one of those 
very girls came forward in court and swore she 
had been used to seeing- it in making harnesses, 
and showing her it might have been used by the 
deceased to hang herself, I then regretted extreme- 
ly I had not told that this very girl had been drill- 
ing to practise that manoeuvre all the evening, and 
that they did not, when I was with them, appear to 
understand how to make it, and asked me to show 
them." 

Unable to twist the evidence of this woman to 
suit their purpose, the friends of the prisoner en- 
deavoured to make it appear, on the stand, that 
she had contradicted herself once or twice in con- 
versation : but they did not make it out very clear- 
ly; although it was a subject of amazement to many 
that she had not done it repeatedly, placed, as she 
had been, in circumstances of such embarrassment 
and temptation. Since writing the narrative the 
author has been warned by some of Avery's friends 
not to place any reliance upon any thing this wo- 
man should tell, as there would not be a word of 
truth in any of it. But when we wished to see the 
letter from Bristol, in confirmation of that part of 
her story, and she produced it; and after ascertain- 
ing from the people of the house, that she was not 
only on that evening, at the house, with the Lowell 
witnesses and the girls named, but that they were 
" shut up by themselves in the front roorn,'^ the 
very words she used ; and that those girls were re- 
peatedly seen practising upon that knot while 
there ; we could not but believe it : particularly, 
as w8 have never in all our travels been able to 



152 FALL RIVER, 

find any one who used the clove hitch in harnesses, 
and have seen at least hundreds making. 

Mr. John N. Smith, who testified to the cord 
being different from that used in factories, was 
urged to go as a witness for the prisoner, which 
he refused because he knew his evidence must be 
against him, of course. One person, a Methodist, 
and if we recollect right a deacon in the meeting, 
urged him to go to Newport to testify for the pris- 
oner. Said he, " you will be at no expense — and 
here is a five dollar bill, if you will go." We ask- 
ed leave of IMr. Smith to state this fact, saying 
such things ought to be exposed. He objected, 
saying he was ashamed to have it known that any 
man should dare to offer him a bribe. 

It must be evident to every candid observer, that 
the testimony for the prisoner in many instances 
was overdone. For instance, had two or three 
respectable persons of good standing in society 
stated that the character of S. M. Cornell was not 
good, and that she was plotting, revengeful, (fee. 
it would have gone farther toward convincing the 
minds of the public than all this array of question- 
able evidence ; a great deal of it was entirely ir- 
relevant to the case ; a vast deal appeared to have 
no object but to blacken the character of one as we 
observed before, who was " where she could not 
ansiuer them back again,'''' and injured in a very 
material manner the credit of a society who could 
tolerate such a character (allowing that she was 
so,) so much as to retain her among them, to be 
on any terms at all with her. To receive agairi 
a woman upon probation, who had once been ex- 
pelled upon such a charge as Doctor Graves made 
against her. Gracious heaven ! the idea is mon- 
strous — the thing incredible, if they had not 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 153 

stated it themselves about themselves. Who that 
reads and believes such a statement can be willing 
their young and innocent daughters should be fol- 
lowers of a meeting proverbial for their familiar 
and social habits, where they would be liable to 
associate with such characters. 

We do not know but a part of the charges 
against her may be true, because we have no means 
of positively knowing ; some of them we know 
cannot be ; for instance, we know she could not 
have been sinning and playing the hypocrite in 
four different places at once, as is found to have 
been stated in one part of the trial. She could 
not. have been at Dover, Great Falls, Lowell and 
Waltham, at one and the same time, without pos- 
sessing one of the attributes of omnipotence — that 
of ubiquity. 

We scarcely think she could have been the wri- 
ter of these letters, which we know she was, if as 
vile as represented. Oh exclaims the scoffer who 
reads them, and believes the account given of her 
at the trial, what a caricature they are upon talk- 
ing, canting, whining christians. But to those 
who hope better things, what a different aspect 
will they wear. To those who believe that " out 
of the abundanceof theheartthe mouth speaketh," 
they will not appear like hypocrisy. Ignorant 
and enthusiastic we allow her to have been. Ig- 
norant as she was though, we observe her letters 
as much better spelt than those of Avery which 
we have seen. 

We are sorry to say that what we have stated 
respecting the treatment of the witnesses, together 
with much more, generally known, which our 
limits will not permit us to state, goes far towards 
contradicting the assertion made in the report of 



154 FALL RIVER, 

the Conference, who sat upon Avery's last exami- 
nation, viz. that while the trial was pending they 
remained perfeetly quiet, not even undertaking to 
clear their brother from any of the ridiculous and 
exaggerated reports daily circulated against him, 
or to contradicting their reports. It is apparent 
it was no time to stand up in his defence in that 
way — but as to remaining quiet, it will be seen by 
every body that they were as busy as moles, all 
the time. It is amazing that Avery should not 
have had the politeness to publish a card after- 
wards thanking his reverend brethren generally, 
for it would have been hard to have particularized 
names, where so many deserved the meed of 
thanks, for their great exertions and important 
services ! ! ! Here the proceedings of these rev- 
erend gentlemen resembled those of a religious 
association ? Has it not rather looked like a com- 
bination of men for secular and political purpose, 
a league offensive and defensive ? Has it appeared 
their object is to elicit truth, or suppress it ? How 
is a charge against one of them treated ? Is there 
a candid examination of facts gone into, or is not 
every movement directed to break down the char- 
acter of the accuser in the first place, or to invali- 
date his testimony some way or other ? Is this the 
way to come to truth ? 

We come now to the last remark except one we 
have to make on this painful subject, viz. the sub- 
ject of those letters found in the possession of S. 
M. Cornell, designated as the yellow letter, the 
pink letter, and the white one. (The original let- 
ters now in the custody of the court, have been 
kindly and politely submitted to our inspection.) 
The view of the author in seeking to see them was 
simply to ascertain for a certainty, whether the 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 165 

deceased had any hand in them, as insisted upon 
by the friends of E. K. Avery. To some of them, 
honest, though prejudiced people, we had pledged 
ourselves if possible to obtain a sight of them. 
Having been employed for many days in transcrib- 
ing her letters into this work, we felt perfectly 
confident, that if she had any hand in them we 
should at once detect it, however disguised. 
Among the papers found in her possession we dis- 
covered nothing in her hand, however, except her 
letter to Mr. Bidwell, and the slip of paper con- 
taining those words — " If I am missing," <fcc. 
The three other letters were written by one person, 
although the pink one was written very fine, and 
disguised to make it resemble a woman's. But oh 
when they were compared with the acknowledged 
letters of Avery to Mr. Bidwell, Mr. Drake,* and 
Mr. Storrs, the conviction which they brought to 
my mind was absolutely overwhelming. We 
thought we had fully believed in Avery's guilt be- 
fore, but we feel we never had, until then, a gush 
of feeling which we could not prevent, choaking 
utterance for some moments. We do not wonder 
that his friend Mr. Bidwell could not help saying 
that one of them evidently was his hand writing. 
That one of them was the plainest, but they all 
discovered one common hand, all the peculiarities, 
the turn of the letter, the dash stops, the breaking 
of some and the leaning of others, the spelling — 
of folding and sealing, even to the most minute 
particulars, was exact in accordance, one thing 

♦ The Methodist minister preaching in Portbmouth. There is something: 
worthy of notice .ibout this letter. It is daied the 22d, and consequently was 
written on Saturday after the murder, and before Avery knew that tie was sus- 
pected of It, and most urgently requests Mr. Drake to come to him immediately, 
and without delay ; to comn horse back or in carriage, or any way—and all fx- 
pcnsrs should be paid, but to come without fail. This Mr. Drake was remarka- 
bly busy dunog the whole trial. Nothing could exceed his zeal ia serving the 
cause. 



156 

too as judge , observed, was very convincing. 

*'If any one had forged these letters intending to 
have them attributed to him, would they not have 
put his name, or, at least the initials of it ?" but 
instead of that they were signed ' B. H.' for Betsy 
Hill, probably, though it seemed the writer lost 
his recollection in one place, where he says, 
" direct your letters to Betsy Hill, and not to me.'* 
The fact is it was confidently anticipated by the 
author of these letters, they would never come to 
light, she had been directed so positively to burn 
them. One said, however, " you may keep the 
letter till I come and bring them and I will bring 
mine." It was thought no doubt she had them 
with her in the pocketbook or wallet which she 
always carried in her pocket, and in which she 
had generally carried these letters. It was stated 
to the author that when found the pocketbook was 
not about her, and that from that day to this it has 
never been discovered. It is amazing this circum- 
stance has never been commented on before, for 
if true undoubtedly the author of those letters, 
whoever he was, took it from her, expecting it 
contained the letters, which it seems she had 
taken out and put in her bandbox. In her pocket 
was found a silver pencil case, and some other 
trifles — we have forgotten what — but no pocket- 
book. It would appear singular, if we did not re- 
collect that the finding of the vial of tansy oil was 
not testified to in Court, or much said about it 
until within a few months past, although the wo- 
men who laid her out and found it among her 
things, talked about it at the time. Mrs. Nancy 
Durfee testified to the author that she was the first 
person who saw it in the trunk, where it lay with 
a teaspoon beside it, and that from the quantity 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 157 

she could not believe it to be oil of tansy — but 
such it afterwards proved. We believe there is 
one person who knows who sold this vial. We have 
ascertained she did not procure itherself at Fall 
River, nor carry it there with her. There is a pe- 
culiarity about the vial, which we believe would 
cause any person who sold it to recognise it again. 

It is almost equally strange so little should have 
been said respecting the wounded hand of the 
prisoner. At the time of the murde^ a woman in 
the vicinity of the place, dreamed that the murder- 
ed girl appeared to her and told her that the per- 
son who killed her, might be recognized by the 
marks of her teeth upon his hand, for that during 
the struggle he put his hand over her mouth to 
stifle her shrieks, and she bit it. This woman de- 
termined to see the prisoner, and know whether 
there were any such marks on his hand or not. 
Whether it was owing to her entreaties or not we 
cannot say, but at the Bristol examination the 
prisoner was ordered to unglove. He had kept 
one glove on, previous to this. He pulled ofl' his 
glove and his hand was found to be wounded. 
The counsel for the government wanted a physi- 
cian called to examine it, which the justices who 
sat on the examination declined to do, when Avery 
oflfered to account for the wound by relating the 
manner in which it was done. He was silenced 
by the government counsel, who did not wish to 
hear his story. And thus the affair of the wound- 
ed hand was dropped. 

In conclusion, we would observe, that however 
Strang the presumption of the guilt of E. K. Avery 
may be on the public mind, we fervently hope he 
may remain unmolested, and we would wish unno- 
ticed. If he is guilty, the avenger of blood is be- 
14 



158 FALL AIVER, 

hind him. That is sufficient. If innocent, he 
ought not to preach. Slill, silent contempt and 
utter neglect would do more towards putting down 
such persons than clamour. Mobbings never 
ought to be known in a civilized community ; be- 
sides that they are calculated to make even merit- 
ed chastisement appear in the eyes of the world 
like persecution. They have another horrible 
tendency, which is to give men in power who are 
fond of the exercise of authority a pretext for the 
most shocking severities. Those who set out to 
inflict chastisement in this way generally get the 
worst of it before it is over. Besides, who knows 
that in this case that is not the very point aimed 
at ? Who knows that the outrageous insult of 
thrusting this man into the pulpit in every place 
where he is most obnoxious is not intended to 
produce this very result ? Should a meeting-house 
be pulled down, or preachers torn from the pulpit, 
who knows what fearful war cry might be raised. 
There is nothing whets the sword like false zeal. 
The battles of the Cavaliers and Round Heads 
might be fought over again in our country, expe- 
rience has once demonstrated there is no quarter 
lo be expected from men who would march to bat- 
tle singing psalms, and wield the battle axe with 
the covenant in their bosoms. From all such 
contests may the God of peace deliver us. 

To return to Fall River, that place from which 
sin and sorrow and contention have kept us away 
so long in story. Though its naturaU beauties, as 
we observed before, are obscured by improve- 
ments, it is, and ever will be, beautiful in situation. 
The waters of Mount Hope bay still roll on in 
their natural course. 

The waves still wash the peaceful shores around 
Where the poor wanderer a grave has found. 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 159 

Internal improvement is going on, and wealth 
flowing in. But there is a change there — an'l oh, 
how great a one ! There are two classes of peo- 
ple who once lived in friendly intercourse, be- 
tween whom, now, nothing but frozen civilities 
are exchanged. The great body of the inhabitants 
must feel, as every one of our republican states 
would have felt, if opposition had been enabled 
to palm upon us the curse of a people, within our 
own borders, having a separate and independent 
government within themselves. Can nothing be 
done to heal the breach ? Children of the same 
heavenly Father, redeemed by the same power, 
can no compromise be effected ? Alas ! we fear 
not. Fanaticism, aided by self-will and obstinacy, 
has drawn the sword and thrown away the scab- 
bard. The minority have nailed the flag to the 
mast, and are determined to surrender only with 
life. Ah ! foolish and perverse generation ; some- 
thing may yet happen, to convince you of your 
error : but your conviction may come a day too 
late. How mournful it is to see people, who once 
exchanged a friendly greeting whenever they met, 
even in the streets, with a cordial " good morning," 
or a friendly shake of the hand, now pass each 
other without any salutation, and perhaps even 
with looks of coldness and contempt, of estrange- 
ment and aversion. 

Yet the hospitable and benevolent inhabitants of 
Fall River, as a body, are not in fault in this case ; 
they have only sought to do their duty towards a 
helpless stranger who perished by lawless vio- 
lence within their precincts. And for this, their 
reward shall be the eternal hatred of one particu- 
lar class of people, and the esteem of ^^very honest, 
candid and impartial person. 



160 FALL RIVER, 

If Fall River was once an objeet of interest to 
the traveller, it is doubly so now, from the associ- 
ations connected with it. For months after the 
tragical affair detailed in the preceding pages, it 
formed the entire topic of conversation in every 
steam boat that plied the river ; though time has 
effected a change in this respect, yet ever as the 
boat nears the bay is the stranger heard to enquire 
the situation of Gilford's house, of the road to the 
ferry, of Rowland's bridge, and of Durfee's farm. 
It is in vain for the peace professing part of the 
community to say " it is time this subject was 
dropped — this excitement ceased." To get out 
of the way of it we must go as a certain writer 
says, where a hay stack was never heard of." 



14* 



APPENDIX. 

So much has been said of late of Camp-Meet- 
ings, and such intense curiosity excited on the 
subject, that the author of these sheets feels called 
upon to give a history of one of which she was 
an eye and ear witness, i. e. for the time 
she passed there. The meeting was held in R. 
I. and was I should say some ten or twelve years 
ago. It is said that the regulations of those pla- 
ces have been much more strict of late years, and 
that the disorders in the immediate vicinity of a 
Camp have lessened since. That their moral 
tendency is better than it was before is however 
doubtful. Witness the affair of the unfortunate 
girl who perished at the stackyard. That her 
latest misfortune was occasioned by her attend- 
,ance there, cannot be doubted. The testimony 
of her sister and one other respectable female 
fully proves that; even by the testimony of her 
enemies it appears she had made resolutions of 
amendment, which the temptations and facilities 
of a Camp-Meeting overcame. In fact it is as- 
serted by many that no certain proof exists that 
her first criminal offence was not perpetrated there : 
that might have been the beginning — the end no 
.one disputes was death. Nothing can be more 
imposing than the first view of a camp, and a su- 
perficial observer, a person who eittered and just 
walked through, or was so fortunate as to be seated 
in some safe place while listening to a sermon or 
a prayer, might see no harm in one. But we 
think no person could pass much time in one, if 



164 APPENDIX. 

a person of any observation and not blinded by- 
fanaticism, without deprecating the practice. I 
am fully aware I shall make no friends by an ex- 
posure of all I saw and heard there, but I hope no 
enemies. I hope, fervently hope, that no order 
of men have become so depraved, as to hate or 
persecute any one who dares to avow a difference 
of opinion, or for speaking the truth, however 
repugnant to their own views or feelings. Should 
it be asked, where has this history been all this 
time? I answer, safe locked up in my desk. — 
Why has it never been published before ? because 
it has never been called for: the occasion which 
has called it forth has never been so pressing. — 
Men's eyes are now partially open to the great 
evils of fanaticism generally, and of Camp-Meet- 
ings in particular; and every thing known on 
that subject ought to come out. The following 
diary or memorandum, or whatever it may be 
called, was taken at the time, except a very little 
added from memory. Were it necessary, I could 
give the names of many of the characters men- 
tioned : but it is not with a view of injuring in- 
dividuals, or dragging before the public names of 
persons known only for their modesty and do- 
mestic virtues, that this is brought before the 
world; but with the hope that it may have a 
tendency to assist in putting down a great evil, 
a sore affliction in the land, a pestilence walking 
in darkness, an enormity that calls loudly for the 
strong arm of the law, in the opinion of many 
good judges. A thing much more to be dreaded 
than even theatrical entertainments, inasmuch as 
it goes under the nam« of religion; whereas the 
former is called by all sorts of evil names that 
can serve to warn people. When people go to 



APPENDIX. 165 

the theatre they know where they are going. — 
They go with their eyes open. They know it is 
at best but a profane entertainment, and they go 
against the warnings of the pious of all denomi- 
nations. But when they go to a Camp ground, 
they do not know of the dangers that lurk there 
and menace them at every step : they do not know 
who or what mingles with the motley assembly 
that surrounds them. They are told that by go- 
ing there they may find religion, (a most absurd 
phrase by the way) as though religion could only 
be imbibed in certain places and situations. They 
are taught that the spirit of God, whose still small 
whispers may be heard at all times when the 
soul is disposed to retire within itself and listen 
to its heavenly breathings, that the spirit of God 
is in a very peculiar manner dispensed at those 
scenes of noise and confusion, even without mea- 
sure, if we may credit their often uttered expres- 
sions of SM'm full," "I'm running over," &-c. — 
Many really honest people are induced by the 
hope of being converted there, without any trou- 
ble of their own, to attend frequently, to the great 
detriment of their families who too often are 
suffering for their care at home. 

The feelings of the really pure a»nd pious and, 
intellectual among these assemblies must often 
be outraged — though they endure it thinking they 
are doing God service, and it must be right be- 
can^e their councils permit or decree it. 

Mistaken beings, there is a way that seemeth 
right to a man, but the end thereof is death. I 
am fully aware of all the arguments made use of 
to defend Camp-Meetings — but they are futile ; 
and fully aware as will be seen by this of their 
imposing effect at first sight. 



166 APPENDIX. 

Who can contend that this free intermingling 
of society is not dangerous, this tumbling and 
falling about not indecent. That the familiar 
habit of life practised there is not full of tempta- 
tion; to prove this would be to prove that the 
persons who frequent them are not made of flesh 
and blood, a thing that abundantly proves itself. 

Who can prevent the neighborhood of a Camp 
Meeting from swarming with drunkards and gam- 
blers, and horse jockies and pickpockets, and 
offenders of every other description, who go 
about seeking whom they may devour. It is said 
now, that "bad people are driven off the ground," 
but if so where do they go? it is certain that hack 
loads and wagon loads of very bad people are al- 
ways seen following a Camp-Meeting as regular 
as to a field of battle. If it is purposely to call 
sinners to repentance that these out door meetings 
are held, why not have a place assigned them, 
where they may hear and be profitted by the 
preaching of the word — and kept in sight that 
people may know w^hat they are about, rather 
than be driven into the bushes to pollute the place 
with all sorts of enormities. I am not however 
contending for their admission at all, if their 
presence could be avoided, for in my opinion the 
best place to preach to these people is at home, 
and admire the plan of domestic missionaries to 
seek out the abodes of vice. But if the vilest sin- 
ners are not to be benefitted by these meetings 
why not hold them in places of worship where 
no facilities for crime exist? 

But leaving the out-door evils of Camp-Meet- 
ings entirely out of the question, it still remains 
to be asked, are their in-door evils not to be 
dreaded? is their effect upon the religious society 



APPENDIX. 167 

who frequent them less pernicious? are not the 
habits of idleness and dissipation (spiritual dissi- 
pation though it be) promoted by it? among fa- 
natics especially — among those whose business is 
at home — among those whose feet ought to abide 
in their own house? If we were like the wander- 
ing Arabs or Tarters whose home is in the fields, 
in every green spot whereon they may chance to 
light, it would be a different affair, but in a country 
like ours where domestic industry and sobriety 
are of such importance, wandering, idle habits 
among females are absolutely ruinous. Add to 
this the exposure of health. There can be no 
doubt that the lives of many delicate females have 
been sacrificed to the absurd custom of sleeping 
on the ground, with no covering but a tent to 
those who have been accustomed to the walls of 
a house. The want of rest, of sleep, which all 
who attend these meetings must suffer more or 
less, must be great. And last but not least, the 
low and dishonoring thoughts of religion which 
the constant hearing of such familiarity with 
Deity must unavoidably create. Why it is im- 
possible people can know what they are saying, 
when they use such expressions as are frequently 
used at these places. They frequently speak of 
the Almighty, and speak to him too, as though 
he were an equal, and even an inferior; for peo- 
ple very seldom address an equal in the impera- 
tive. 

We have one thing to hope, however, if peo- 
ple will not submit to be reasoned with; that as 
the light of science breaks upon their minds, 
bigotry, superstition and fanaticism will vanish. 
Unless, indeed, it be a combination for civil pur- 
poses, as in the case of the Romish Church, where, 



168 APPENDIX. 

as her clergy became more enlightened, they only 
became more accomplished to do evil; and in 
proportion to their knowledge, so did their tyran- 
ny, and extortion, and oppression of their simple 
hearers, increase. 

It is possible that some very hard thoughts and 
still harder speeches may be the reward of the 
writer from those who differ in opinion, but why? 
How many have we heard of the Methodist de- 
nomination inveighing against Masonry — not be- 
cause Masonry ever done them any injury, but 
merely because it had become so obnoxious to sa 
large a proportion of the people — and contending 
that Masons ought to give up their charters, if it 
was only in compliance with public prejudice 
and to restore general harmony. This was cer- 
tainly sound and correct reasoning: but it applies 
equally well to Camp Meetings, and to the case 
of E. K. Avery. 

Extracted from a Journal of a Camp-Meetings 
held in Smithfield^ R. I. 

The long expected time at length arrived, the 
meeting was to be held in an extensive wood about 
nine miles from the town of — several very re- 
spectable young ladies had agreed to stay at a 
house within two miles of the meeting, where 
they could ride backwards and forwards as often 
as they chose through its continuance. The 
weather was excessively warm and the season 
unusually dry, and from tlie dust and heat, most 
uncomfortable riding. For my own part I felt 
determined to endure all hardships rather than be 
disappointed in this opportunity of seeing and 
hearing. So many stories had been told me of 



J^PPENDIX, 169 

Camp-Mcetin^s, and such various and contradic- 
tory ones, that I felt determined to see and hear 
for myself. The meetings had not commenced 
upon our arrival, but the Camp was said to be in 
order, and so great was our impatience to see it, 
that we accepted of a ride with a company of 
friends who were going from the house where we 
staid, and proceeded to the camp ground. 

There was an avenue opened through the wood 
from the road to the camp, perhaps of about a 
quarter of a mile in length, but as it had just been 
cleared, was exceedingly dangerous riding. — 
However, we arrived safe at the entrance, and 
dismounting, passed the barrier, and found our- 
selves within the circle of the camp. I was never 
more amazed than by the scene before me. It 
was a beautiful spot in a pine wood. The trees 
were felled here and there with a sufficiency left 
for shade, and had the appearance of a fine grove 
within an impenetrable wood. The spot prepared 
was entirely round in shape,and its circumference 
I do not know, but it was quite extensive. The 
setting sun lent its last bright beams to the scene, 
while the snowy tents stretched far and wide, dis- 
covered many happy faces peeping from beneath 
their white curtains. Here and there an old man 
or woman was setting in the door enjoying the 
refreshing odour from the pines, or wrapt in con- 
templation of the scene before them, upon which 
they appeared to gaze with much pleasure. 

I was lost in admiration: a holy calm took 
possession of my soul: I thought of the camp of 
Israel — of Abraham sitting in his tent door in the 
cool of the day — of the patriarchs of old, who, as 
the inspired historian informs us, were "plain 
men dwelling in tents." My imagination ran 
15 



170 APPENDIX. 

through the whole scene of sacred history, from 
Adam down to Moses — the plains of Mamre — 
the desert of Sinai was before me — I heard in im- 
agination "the trump of God, and witnessed the 
proclamation of the law." In short it was some- 
time before I could descend to earth and seriously 
consider the object that brought me there. 

The plain dress of the people was very pleas- 
ant to me, and about the place there was an air of 
quiet inviting to heavenly contemplation. And 
is this, 1 asked, a Camp-Meeting? 1 do not be- 
lieve a word about the confusion. Ill natured 
world that it is, what can be more proper than to 
retire into the desert to pray? "What more likely 
to keep in mind that we are strangers and pil- 
grims here, than to become the inhabitants of a 
tent for a certain season? They came doubtless to 
recollect that " here we have no continuing city — 
to remember that we have no certain habitation 
but that house eternal in the heavens, whose 
builder and maker is God." And here too, doubt- 
less, they came to mourn for the sins that made 
us pilgrims and exiles in a world that but for our 
disobedience would still have been man's Paradise. 
In this state of exile, of humiliation, they eat their 
bread with tears, and mingle their drink with 
weeping." "What can be more useful? what more 
proper? what more salutary? Surely my God 
must look with complacency upon a scene like 
this. 

With a heart too full for conversation, I walked 
around the ground. My companions too were 
not very loquacious. I imagine the scene struck 
them something as it did me, except one who was 
not so ignorant as myself. To her I made the 
remark, "it is very quiet here." She answered, 
*'the meetings have not began." 



APPENDIX. 171 

Upon re-entering the avenue our wagon had to 
turn out often for companies of rude young men, 
who, though the pass was so extremely dangerous, 
drove Jehu-like, unmindful of stumps or stones, 
and appeared in a high frolic. I inquired the 
meaning of this. The landlord's son who was 
driving us, answered, "They were professional 
gamblers and horse jockies, who followed a 
Camp-Meeting as regularly as crows and vultures 
followed an army." I was amazed, but I soon 
forgot the circumstance and relapsed into my 
former pleasing reverie. 

Tuesday, we rode into the camp ground imme- 
diately after breakfast. Upon arriving in sight of 
the tents, I remarked to one of my companions, 
we had never see-n an army encamped, and I ho- 
ped we never might, but this must resemble it in 
appearance except in warlike preparations. But 
here, exclaimed I with enthusiasm, they wage a 
holy war. These are engaged in a warfare that 
must never end, and their vigilance must exceed 
that of those whose sentence is death for slumber- 
ing at their post. Their foes are from within as 
well as from without; but they fight under a pow- 
erful leader, and be their foes ever so numerous, 
the banner of the cross will finally prevail. 

Under the impression of such feelings, I entered 
the circle ready to join the people in their holy 
work. The ground is what is called an inclined 
plane, that is of rather gradual descent, and to- 
ward the lower part was erected a small platform, 
intended for the pulpit, called familiarly "the 
preacher's stand." A man was standing there 
when we entered and loudly calling upon the 
people to repent: there was little sense or con- 
Kection in what he said, but he seemed to be very 



172 APPENDIX. 

earnest and sincere, and had I think, the loudest 
voice I ever remember to have heard, but his ex- 
ertions seemed thrown away, for except a stroll- 
ing- party occasionally halted near him, he had 
no auditors. We agreed to take a walk round 
and see what had become of the good people. — 
They were mostly in their tents, cooking and 
eaiing, and in another apartment (for they were 
usually divided into two or three) reclining on 
the straw — men and women promiscuously chat- 
ting and laughing, and sometimes casting a furtive 
glance towards the preacher, whose extreme 
earnestness apparently excited little interest. — 
After a time he was succeeded by another, equally 
vehement; and one old man began to cry aloud 
for mercy, which seemed to encourage them 
very much. Being fatigued, we retired to one of 
the tents where we had some acquaintance, to 
rest. They informed us that none of their best 
speakers had appeared yet, and that the evening 
was the time for powerful meetings. Towards 
noon, we observed people gathering round one of 
tlie tents, and following the multitude we entered. 
Curiosity had been excited by the falling of a 
young woman on the ground near the stand. — 
She had been conveyed into this tent, and was 
now lying on the straw, while the people who 
brought her returned to the stand, and seemed to 
take no further thought of her. We approached 
the young woman and felt her pulse, and believ- 
ing she was in a hysteric fit, and that it would be 
highly injurious to let her remain so any time, 
begged permission to employ restoratives ; but 
to all applications for tlnem, and remonstrances, 
they turned a deaf ear. The people within smi- 
led scornfully at my ignorance — told me she was 



APPENDIX. 173 

liappy and it would be a sin to revive her if they 
could. She was very pale and her pulse very 
low; but upon my persisting in rubbing her and 
calling for restoratives, backed as I was by a 
skillful physician who now entered the tent, and 
was remonstrating in not very gentle terms upon 
trifling thus with human life, they ordered us out 
of the tent, and fastened down the curtain, which 
excluded every breath of air, in an intense hot 
day, with orders for no one to disturb her until 
the Lord chose to dissolve her trance. 

From this spectacle we retreated towards the 
African tent, which was filled with colored peo- 
ple, but there was so much talking there at once, 
and they were so thick, we were obliged to pass 
on. A very old man now took his place on the 
stand, whose hoary head and stooping gait pro- 
claimed that time with him would soon cease to 
be. I observed to the young lady who had my 
arm, that "this old man who stands upon the 
borders of eternity, will certainly feel what he 
says," and we descended again to the stand. 

He commenced his discourse by saying — " he 
was a very old fashioned Methodist, and he should 
not be put out if they should groan, or say amen 
or hallelujah — that he had seen nothing that 
looked like zeal among them yet — no efforts to 
take the kingdom by force," &c. &c. — and he 
exorted them with a degree of violence, which 
soon exhausted him and compelled him to yield 
the pulpit, i. e. the stand, to another. It had 
seemed the preacher's object in this discourse to 
bring his audience to a certain temperature, and I 
was lost in reflection, thinking if the man could 
mean that the Lord was not worshipped with ac 
ceptance where he was w^orshipped in silence. — 
15» 



174 APPENDIX. 

But I bad little time for reflection on the subject, 
for a very devout looking person now advanced 
and requested his brethren to join hiin in prayer 
for the multitude. Being hemmed in in such a 
manner it was impossible for many of us to kneel, 
and many doubtless were afraid to. It is true if we 
had been engaged just as we ought to have been, 
v/e should not have seen what we did see. But 
this was impossible without absolute danger to 
ourselves. We had just been warned not only 
against pickpockets, but told women were often 
grossly insulted there, even in the thickest of the 
camp. Our eye were therefore about us, and 
several young ladies afterwards told us that when- 
ever they closed their ej^es, and tried to engage 
in prayer, they were aroused by some of the men 
pressing so near, they could almost feel the pul- 
sation of their hearts, and sometimes press their 
arms, &c. 

But our greatest astonishment was to see the 
Methodists themselves wandering about in all di- 
rections, and some that were kneeling near us did 
not in the least appear to be engaged in what they 
were professedly about. One young woman, who 
knelt by our side, was busily employed in trying 
to lit a piece of bark to a log, with a countenance 
that expressed anything but devotion. One of our 
companions, who was vv'atching her, burst into a 
violent fit of laughter, which she seemed unable 
to restrain, although we gave her very severe looks 
and shook our heads at her. She was not a pro- 
fessor of religion, though a most amiable person 
and a sincere well wisher to the cause ; and she 
appeared to be very much mortified upon being 
told of it afterwards, though she assured us, with 
tears in her eyes, that if her existence had depend- 



APP£i^DlX. 175 

ed upon her suppressing it, she could not have 
done so. 

The excessive heat and fatigue drove us back to^ 
our lodging- at noon ; but towards night we rode 
again to the Camp. We observed, as we came 
near the wood, the recent erection of stalls to sell 
liquors and refreshments ; and around many were 
congregated people notorious for dissolute morals 
and disgraceful conduct. The wood appeared to 
be swarming with people of all descriptions, and 
it looked as though it might be extremely hazard- 
ous for any one to venture there alone and on foot. 

The first object that met our eyes upon coming 
within the barrier was a young woman of extreme 
beauty, who was staggering through the Camp, 
with her clothes torn and her locks shrivelled, 
AvriQging her hands and mourning that the people 
were not more engaged. She was a girl of about 
middling height, rather fat, with large, languish- 
ing black eyes, and a profusion of raven hair 
which floated on her shoulders and reached below 
her waist, with the fairest complexion that could 
be imagined. She appeared to excite great atten- 
tion wherever she moved through the crowd. We 
observed, as she passed along, that the young men 
exchanged winks and jogged each others elboM's. 
We subsequently saw the same young woman ly- 
ing in a tent, apparently insensible, i. e. in a per- 
fect state of happiness, as they assured us. There 
was a great deal of joggling, pinching and look- 
ing under bonnets, w^hich was extremely annoy- 
ing. We met a young lady from our town, who 
showed us her arm pinched black and blue by she 
could not tell who, while she was listening to the 
preaching of a woman at the stand. She was 
quite enraged about it, and protested she would 



176 APPENDIX. 

get home as soon as she could get her party to go, 
and that no persuasion should induce her to come 
again. Her arm really appeared in a swollen, bad 
state. She was a womam of very correct deport- 
ment, and the conviction that no impropriety on 
her part could have been the provocation to insult, 
rendered the circumstance rather alarming ; and 
we resolved to keep very near our friends and re- 
turn home at an early hour : though various per- 
sons of the meeting tried to prevail on us to stay, 
saying " the work of the spirit was much more 
powerful after dark." There appeared to be a 
great deal of uncivil amusement going on, not 
only in a sly way, in the Camp, but throughout 
the ground. The narrow, dark avenue was ex- 
ceedingly hard to pass ; dissolute and drunken 
people were frequently in the rear of the carriages, 
swearing and talking in the most profane and in- 
decent manner. Upon retiring for the night, I 
had a most serious time of self-examination 
whether it was right to go again ; but the desire to 
know the extent of the evil or good prevailed, and 
I resolved to see it out, as the phrase is. Wednes- 
day, however, I did not go at all, being confined 
with a violent head-ache. There was no rest in 
the inn ; constant quarrelling in the road, the men 
-very profane, talking every thing. The Landlord 
of the house where we were, a very quiet man, 
.appeared exceedingly annoyed. 

In the course of the day, we heard often from 
the Camp. It waxed warmed there. Many were 
struck dovi^n, they said, with conviction of their 
sins, throwing themselves in the dirt and calling 
■loudly for mercy ; and many more " lost their 
■strength :^^ the state of exhaustion described in the 
preceeding pages. The people without, we were 



APPENDIX. 177 

informed, became more noisy and obstreperous. 
'' Oceans of rum," as it w es often expressed, were 
drank in the neighborhood. AW that night we 
slept but little. Some of the profane lodgers, on 
the other side of the building, weie continuall}^ 
singing hallelujahs and shouting '* An^en ! Glory!'' 
&c. It was in vain the landlord exerted himself; 
before he could get to one room, a louder call from 
the other end of the building would drawhisn there, 
until he gave the matter up in despair, and suffer- 
ed his obstreperous lodgers to sing themsehes to 
sleep. 

Thursday afternoon, rode again to the Camp, 
saw the most drunken people in the road I ever saw 
on any other occasion. Many of them, I was told, 
had families at home destitute, even in this land of 
plenty, of the common necessaries of life. I could 
not help groaning in spirit all the way, which was 
literally perfumed by the odour of the spirits which 
they had drank. Of course they, the mob, were 
^Ireadfully impudent ; not to us to be sure — the 
gentleman who always carried us was uncle to two 
of the ladies of our party and well known in that 
part of the country ; with him, therefore, we al- 
ways felt perfectly safe. But he told us he had to 
dismount, the day before, from his wagon, to res- 
cue some females from insull, two or three times ; 
and that the Methodists had sent for two or three 
sheriffs to come and keep order. 

When we entered the Camp, there was what 
they called a powerful preacher, on the stand. — 
He was exhorting the people to repentance with 
great vehemence and gesticulation. The bad 
English he used provoked many a smile from his 
hearers, while another class of Iua hearers seem- 
ed to listen with profound attention, and express- 



178 APPENDIX. 

ed their approbkticn by many an exclamation of 
delight, accompanied with groans and amens. — 
One man fell doivn near ns in strong convulsions ; 
the crowd pressed around him, but the brethren 
pushing them back, drew him into a tent, saying 
he was " fuil of the spirit," &.c. We now got 
crowded between a woman of most infamous 
character, and some young men, who were hold- 
ing a w-'iispering dialogue over our shoulders : — 
astonishing impudence ! We removed to another 
part jf the ground as soon as possible ; and hav- 
ing regained our esc()rt,proceeded to a bench near 
the upper end of the Camp. Here, seared be- 
neath some trees, we couki look down upon the 
crowd, thougli out of its immediate vicinity. — 
Here too, we could hear m()st of what the preach- 
er said who was then speaking. One of our ac- 
quaintance now advanced from one of the tents, 
and informed us there had been " quite a riot 
there" the preceding evening, but that there was 
*' no danger now, as there were several officers 
on the g^round, hired to keep the peace." But 
there was no solemnity now — all was hubbub and 
confusion. A sister came up and asked if we in- 
tended to stay in the evening, saying they had 
*' sucij powerful meetings in the evening, it was 
heaven below." I could not but express to her 
and several others, that I was about tired of it, 
and should go away with very strong prejudices 
against Camp Meetings. They assured me it was 
only because I had not seen enough of them, and 
that if I should remain with them one evening, 
they doubted not my prejudices would vanish ; 
and that I should witness such a display of the 
power of God, as I never saw before," said I was 
cold, " but she would insure me I should get 



APPENniA. 



179 



warmed, if I would onlv attend their evening- 
prayer meetings." I to'*! Her it was not possible 
for me to stay that ev<?ning, as \re expected the 
wagon, to carry us b^ck, before ?^in-set, and I had 
engaged to return with my p»^'y ; but that both 
they and J intended to pass */ie last night in the 
Camp, which w^uld be the next, as we understood 
they kept up 'tie meetings through the whole of 
the'last nigK, and we were determiner!, having 
heard so m^ich of t^eir evening meetings, to be 
present o«ie night/ and if there v»'as any good to 
be obta.'ned, to K in the way of it. She appear- 
ed to be much pleased, and we separated. Our 
conveyance wow arrived for us and we departed ; 
a^ain past the dark avenue, upon which the 
shades of twilight were now fast gathering. The 
brutal iptoxication and profanity visible on the road 
home tvas truly shocking ; and as we went past 
die stalls, the thought struck me, that thes:e buy- 
ers and sellers were after all perhaps the smallest 
sinners on the ground ; that they, who were the 
means of bringing this tumultuous assemblage 
together, unless there was some redeeming merit 
about it, that I had not yet discovered, had much 
to answer for. Dismissing such thoughts how- 
ever, I resolved not to make a final decision 
against them, until I had witnessed those meetings 
upon whose influence they counted so much. 

This evening I overheard some ladies, (of 
whom there was and had been, a respectable num- 
ber, and a very respectable company at the inn,) 
teazing their husbands to carry them to the Camp. 
Their husbands positively refused, saying it was 
not a proper place for females in the evening, 
and that they could not engage to protect them 
from insult while passing through the wood and 



1 so AePEJNDIX. 

its environs ; that the>- themselves should go, hm 
begged tlie females to remain contented where 
they were. Children of Y.ve ! I heard them af- 
terwards resolving at all harards to know where 
the danger lay, and threateniig if their husbands 
went without them to hire a conveyance and go by 
themselves. Whethei they carr'^d their point or 
not I did not ascertain. I saw ti^m all depart 
from the inn in company together. 

A number of young men now repiired to the 
inn, from the Camp, to get supper, in^^nding to 
go back again. They a])peared in a higli frolic, 
but one of them was taken alaraiingly u\. Di- 
rectly after he was seized with a bleeding at the 
nose, so violent as to induce the belief that it pro- 
ceeded from the rupture of a blood vessel. — 
Though at some distance from the apartment's of 
the family, the ladies all volunteered to his assht- 
ance. It was a shocking scene, and with thfe 
greatest difficulty the effusion of blood was stop- 
ped by the variety of applications used. He ap- 
peared quite grateful for our kindness, and par- 
ticularly to the landlord, who immediately after 
had him carried to a cool room and put into bed ; 
but the effect of the scenes he had just witnessed^ 
had such an effect upon his brain that nothing 
could keep him silent. As soon as he Avas com- 
fortably in bed he commenced singing hallelujah, 
and kept it up for the greater part of the night. 

Friday was the last day of the meeting, and I 
who had now firmly resolved to see it out, and be 
a judge myself how far it was a work of the Spirit, 
went prepared to spend the day and night in the 
Camp. We carried refreshments, and all of our 
party agreed to keep together ; and to ensure our 
safety^ we contrived to go in the suit of an officer 



APPENDIX. 181 

of justice, who with his family had stopped at the 
inn on their way. By the way, we had only oc- 
casional glimpses of him after we got there, for 
being employr.i by the meeting people to keep 
order, he was obliged to be on the alert. It was 
a scene of dreadful confusion to get therein the first 
place, the road was so full of people, the dust 
(for the earth had been fairly ploughed up by the 
multitude of feet) blowing and blinding one. It 
was a fact that w^e not half the time could see our 
horses heads, as we rode on. In the Camp there 
was great confusion. The crowd had very sensi- 
bly augmented. There was a woman exhorting 
at the stand, and one of our townsmen, who re- 
cognized me, and knew I was a great stickler for 
•woman's preaching, immediately came up and 
invited me to go down and hear her. Accordingly 
we all went down to the stand. A young female 
whose appearance bespoke her to be under twenty, 
was exhorting. The first words we distinguished 
were these, that she " did not want a copper of 
their money — No I dont want your money," she 
repeated, " not a copper of your money, only the 
salvation of your souls," and she exhorted the 
" young Ladies^'' and the dear young Gentlemen'* 
to repent, with all the energy she was capable of. 
Now I who abominate the epithet of Ladies and 
Gentlemen in christian exhortations, was turning 
ofi", when some one whispered, Mrs. T is go- 
ing to preach. This lady whom I had once before 
heard upon a most interesting occasion, was a 
great favourite with me, andl had inquired several 
times if she was there. I therefore took my sta- 
tion on a log, and with my companions heard her 
discourse. The w^oman speaking was of very 
mild and pleasing manners — a woman of plain 
16 



182 APPENDIX. 

good sense, and exceedingly graceful and winning 
in her manner, when speaking in a house where 
her voice could be heard without exertion ; but al- 
though her discourse which was short, was now, 
as it always was, good, yet the evidently great ex- 
ertion she now used, destroyed much of its eflect 
with most of the hearers ; the blood looked as 
though it would burst through her face, the veins 
of her forehead and temples as well as those of her 
neck, '' swelled up like whip chords," and her 
mouth, usually of sweet and placid expression, 
from her efforts to speak loud, was absolutely dis- 
figured. 

" Is this the Mrs. T— ," whispered one to me, 

I have heard you praise so much ? Why, I never 
witnessed such contortions of countenance before. 
Such remarks proved the woman in my mind to 
be out of her place, for I had no doubt her dis- 
course was better than any that had been heard 
there, but the great effort of retaining such a mas- 
culine attitude entirely destroyed the effect. She 
was succeeded by a very bold and uncouth looking 
ydung femal-e, whose language was as coarse as 
her look and manner. She called upon the peo- 
ple loudly to repent " to-day and save their souls." 
Some very singular expression she made use of 
appeared to have an.irresistible effect upon a part 
of her auditors, who laughed aloud ; upon which 
she said she " did'nt eare who laughed, she cared 
for nobody not a snap of her finger," (snapping her 
fingers in great style.) Another loud laugh. My 
faith in woman's preaching began to waver, and 
I was glad to walk off. We observed an African 
npon a stump at some distance, near the upper part 
of the camp, collecting a great crowd around him, 
who were listening with open ears and gaping 



APPENDIX. 183 

mouths. Some were wiping their eyes, many- 
shouting, and others grinning. Thither then we 
bent our course, willing to hear the truth from 
whatever quarter it might proceed. The first 
words that met my ear were — "Deble fader of lies; 
he be liar from beginning. Some say poor niger 
hab no shoule. Vel dat I dont know, but dis I 
know, I got something in my body make me feel 
tumfortable, "(clapping his hands A'^ehemently upon 
his huge chest). A peal of laughter, long and loud 
from the profane rabble, was the response. While 
nothing daunted, he continued to go on in the 
same strain, not in the least interrupted or annoy- 
ed by the continued shouts of the mob, who, clap- 
ping their hands, kept crying, " go on brother, 
that's your sort, glory, hallelujah," &c. with all 
such sort of encouragement. I need not say we 
did not stay there long ; and as no interesting 
preacher now occupied the stand, we resolved to 
stroll round and look up some of our friends from 
the neighboring towns, many of whom we doubted 
not were there. In passing one of the tents we 
could not forbear stopping to look at a young wo- 
man reclining on the straw in a very languishing 
attitude, and apparently quite helpless : two or 
three young men had seated themselves near her 
and were enquiring how she felt ? Upon closely 
observing her I discovered she was the same 
young woman whose disordered appearance and 
extraordinary beauty had struck me so forcibly, 
and invited so much observation a few days before. 
It was she, but oh how changed ! even in the brief 
space of time that had intervened since we saw 
her before. Her bloom was entirely gone, and 
her haggard look and tangled hair gave her the 
appearance of somethingthathad recently escaped 
16* 



184 APPExNDIX. 

from a mad house. I shuddered with liorror, and 
thought oh ! if you were a sister or daughter of 
mine how should I feel. Humanity towards'the 
poor victim induced me to draw near and ask her 
if she had no mother to take care of her ? She 
turned a look of scorn and anger upon me, and 
then exchanged a look with each of the young 
men, and they all three laughed, and I walked off 
convinced I had been mistaken. I afterwards 
mentioned the case of this young woman to some 
of the persons on the ground, who undertook to 
explain to me her situation by telling me she had 
just come to. Their language I have forgotten, 
but I understood it to mean that she had gone 
through a process which they considered as per- 
fecting the work of sanctification, and I afterwards 
was told by some people at the house, that she was 
probably the same young woman who had lain 
two full days in a state of stupor, an unusual long 
time, and that it was possible her intellects might 
be affected. Be that as it might, the image of the 
fair sinner, or saint (for she was no halfway char- 
acter) haunted me for some time. We afterwards 
looked into another tent where we saw a girl from 
our own immediate neighborhood, in much the 
same situation, having just recovered from a state 
of torpor, and rejoicing with great appearance of 
happiness. My heart sickened at the sight of her, 
for I believed her a most accomplished hypocrite, 
and the end justified my suspicions. In the course 
of a few months she destroyed the peace effectual- 
ly of a worthy family, who had taken her from a 
state of great poverty several years before, and 
cherished her with all the tenderness of parents. 
She had previous to this been a Baptist by profess- 
ion, but after this attached herself to the people 



APPENDIX. J 85 

through M'hose ministry she professed to have been 
recovered from her backsliding, and continued 
with their society until put out of all society. 

Being exceedingly fatigued we were now oblig- 
ed to give up our plan of remaining in the Camp ; 
the wagon in which we came having arVived with 
some other persons, we concluded to go home and 
recruit before the services of the evening. The 
ride home was no more annoying than when we 
came ; a certain sharp-looking set of fellows seem- 
ed to be prowling about the woods, and dodging 
at every corner — whose very look was sufficient 
almost to curdle one's blood, but it was now so 
generally understood that the camp was protected 
by the officers of justice that none dared to show 
their colors. 

Before it was quite dark we returned, and by the 
time we arrived, the Camp was lighted. I could 
easily imagine that embellishment added much to 
the scene. The disposal of the lights which ex- 
hibited so many different groups, and displayed 
the paraphernalia of the tents with such a different 
aspect from what it appeared in the glare of day, 
was altogether imposing, or rather witching. For 
a time we walked, until our protectors returned to 
the inn to take back the conveyance. We avowed 
our determination to pass the night in the Camp ; 
the gentlemen remonstrated, urged the fatigue, 
the exposure to health, the danger, unless we kept 
close under the wing of some person or persons 
able to protect us — but all to no purpose, we de- 
termined to remain. They promised to return 
and stay until ten or eleven o'clock, and then they 
said we must^take care of ourselves ; and leading 
us to one of the seats at the upper end of the ground, 
departed. There were four of us, nevertheless 



86 



APPENDIX. 



we experienced some little sinking of heart Avhen 
we saw our protectors depart. From the place 
where we sat we could see the whole ground ; 
'there w^asa preacher on the stump speaking loudly 
and vehemently ; a black man also on the stand, 
and nobody attending to either ; the noise could 
not have been exceeded by the confusion of Babel. 
I could not compose my mind to realize it was a 
place of worship, although the songs of praise and 
the voice of exhortation mingled with the groans 
of despair, and blending in strange confusion with 
the various dialogues going on, rose each moment 
on the ear. Prayer meetings had commenced in 
the different tents, yet there was a continual travel- 
ling from place to place — nobody except the im- 
mediate actors in the scene seemed stationary for 
a moment at a time ; croAvds of people passing 
and repassing all the time. One woman flew past, 
throwing her arms abroad, and shouting " there 
are grapes here and they are good, heavenly 
times ! heavenly times !" A few moments after our 
ears were assailed with the most piercing shrieks 
of a female voice, which proceeded from behind 
one of the neighboring tents. Two of us sprang 
up and almost involuntarily ran to the place — the 
other two rather hung back as they afterwards told 
us from fear, thinking it might be some one mur- 
dered, or some terrible assult, a few moments 
brought us to the spot, and beheld tw^o young wo- 
men stretched upon the ground, no human creature 
touching them, screaming with all their strength. 
Some females from the neighboring tents rushed 
out to them, and sinking down by their side, be- 
gan to talk to them all at once. " Sink right into 
Jesus said one, and you will be happy in a minute." 
I enquired of an old lady standing by what the 



APPENDIX. 187 

matter was ? she said they were slain, and there 
was a great many slain there every night. Seve- 
ral persons now raised them to carry them into the 
tent, and we in a whisper agreed to follow close 
in the rear, which by keeping hold of each other's 
cloths and following close upon the heels of those 
who had borne in the slain, we succeeded in get- 
ting into the centre of the tent, where, within a 
circle formed by the meeting they were laid upon 
the straw. They, the meeting people, were sing- 
ing a hymn, which rose to deafening uproar upon 
our approach. After the hymn, the women com- 
menced praying over them, using many strange 
expressions and the most violent gesticulation, 
the power of which was acknowledged by many 
a groan, shout, and interjectiori, intermingled with 
the agonizing shrieks of the slain, which still con- 
tinued. 

The loud Amen, the cries for mercy, the groans 
of distress, (either real or imaginary,) resounded 
from every quarter, while the triumphant excla- 
mations of those who shouted " I'm full — Fm run- 
ning over — I'm eating heavenly manna — glory ! 
hallelujah !" &c. &c. were as distinctly heard : 
and this, this scene of discordant noise and un- 
seemly riot (as it appeared to me) was what they 
called " the power of God." Forgive, thou in- 
sulted Being, the use I am here obliged to make 
of thy great and dreadful name ! Occasionally 
some of the young men who were within the cir- 
cle would draw near the young women, whose 
shrieks gradually changed to groans, and ask in a 
low voice, "do you feel any better ?" I could 
not hear that they made any answer. One young 
man, while the prayer was going on, began to 
shake violently, and then falling fiat upon the 



188 APPENDIX. 

straw, exclaimed " God, I'm willing — I will own 
my Saviour — I will, I will :" at the same time, 
his feet kicking at such a rate, that the dust from 
the straw nearly suffocated us ail. His feet chan- 
cing to lodge in his fall, just between me and an- 
other young lady, we endured no small share ol 
inconvenience. The young lady actually receiv- 
ed several smart blows ; when a man leaning over 
our heads (we were seated on a bench) put his 
cane over, and fenced his feet from her, by plant- 
ing it firmly in the ground. 

A few people from our town. sat near, and, as I 
thought seemed to survey the^cene with mournful 
interest, at least they exhibited none of the anima- 
tion I have described. " Lord," said one of the 
women in prayer, " what ails the Providence peo- 
ple ?" One young woman uttered a sentence in 
prayer that seemed to fill the audience with inex- 
pressible delight. It was in allusion to a sentence 
in the sister's prayer that spoke before, wherein 
she asked for the crumbs that fell from her mas- 
jter's table. " Give us," said the last one, " not 
only crumbs, but loaves, good God ? " and slap- 
ping her hands with great violence. The eflect 
was electric, the Amen was echoed jn all the dif- 
ferent notes of the Gamut, while the expressions 
of " Come Lord Jesus, come quickly," were heard 
from different parts of the tent. My soul was 
momently shocked by those familiar addresses to 
the Deity, " God, come down here — Jesus come 
this minute — we want you to night — we want you 
now," &LC. &c. &c. The din and confusion in- 
creased every moment. Stamping, slapping hands 
and knocking fists together, formed altogether, a 
scene of confusion that beggars description, and 
really terrified us. We looked at each other in 



APPENDIX. 189 

despair, and tlien at the door, wliich was com- 
pletely wedged up with faces, one above another, 
no w^ay to get out, and no one to help us ; when 
fortunately, the uncle of two of the young ladies 
(who had returned to the Camp on foot, after put- 
ting up his horses, and who was now standing at 
the door of the tent,) descried us, and in a mo- 
ment comprehending our distress, opened a pas- 
sage to the circle, by saying '• a lady faint ! a lady 
faint !" -which was echoed by several, either to aid 
in getting her out, or to increase the confusion, 
and thus we escaped from the crowd. There was 
now a general begging among us to return home ; 
but the ancle protested there was no way at pre- 
sent, and we must stay all night where Ave were. 
However, as we begged so hard, he despatched a 
man round the barriers to see if any carriage or 
wagon could be procured. While search was mak- 
ing, he advised us to walk around the ground ; 
as hundreds, probably thousands were then doing, 
thinking we should be safer to be moving with 
the crowd, than to sit down any where outside the 
tents. As we passed one of the tents, where the 
confusion could only be equalled by the one we 
had left, we distinguished in prayer that remarka- 
ble sentence, " the Lord is in his holy temple, let 
all the earth keep silence before him." What a 
place for its repetition ! ! One young man began 
to pray, who got so animated that he kept asking 
to die ; exclaiming, " Lord, I want to die. I'm 
ready to die, and fit to die, and Lord I want to 
die to night." Loud shouting and clapping of 
hands followed. 

We now passed a tent entirely closed, fastened 
down, and dreadful groans within : they appear- 
ed to proceed from one voice and that of a woman 



190 APPENDIX. 

and evidently betokened great bodily distress. — 
One of the gentlemen just behind us said he was 
determined to see what was the distress, and be- 
gan unfastening the curtains : we had been for- 
bidden to raise it, by a brother who stood outside, 
but after the young man had got it part way up, 
a minister from Avithin called out " come in and 
see the power of God." Thus invited we entered, 
and behold, a young woman laying flat upon the 
straw, in great apparent agony, calling in frantic 
terms for the coming of the " Holy Ghost." I 
saw no other inmate of the room, except the min- 
ister just mentioned, but upon our coming out, 
several Methodists passed in, and we heard them 
a moment after singing around this distressed 
creature, " Die in the arms of Jesus, Die in the 
arms of Jesus <fec." That woman had every ap- 
pearance of being in strong hysterics. 

We had just met with a party of frieuds from 

the village of C who learning our distress, 

kindly offered a seat for me to return with theni 
to the inn, where they were to pass. It was now 
eleven o'clock, and my companions consented I 
should leave them upon the promise that I would 
not rest until I had found some wagon or carriage 
of some kind to come after them : while passing 
to the barrier where the wagons were stationed, 
we passed a tent where a young female, apparent- 
ly quite gone, was supported in the arms of a 
worthless fellow, who had lately gone from our 
neighborhood, no one knew whither : they were 
just without the tent door, and he was trying to 
bear her m. A fear for the safety of the girl in- 
duced me to ask some one near to rescue her, 
jvhich they attempted, when out burst two or 



APPENDIX. 191 

three men to the relief of their brother, as they 
called him, and forbade any interference.* 

We felt rejoiced that this was the last night of 
the meeting-, for the camp began to smell very of- 
fensive. Many were remarking that the danger 
to health would be very great should the meetings 
continue twenty-four hours longer. The people 
who conveyed me out, got along very well, 
through a road used for a cart path, and which 
appeared much more safe and quiet than the great 
entrance. We saw a good deal of dodginor about, 
though upon comparing notes with others I dis- 
covered I was not solitary in hearing and seeing 
strange things. One lady who had been invited 
to drink tea in one of the tents, observed she had 
been much shocked by a man coming in and invi- 
ting her to stay the evening. He went in shaking 
violentl)/ and saying " we shall have the Holy 
Ghost here to night !" and said a little niece of 
hers who stood by, " do stay aunt Polly, for I want 
to see him." These kind of anecdotes were long 
rehearsed, but I met with no solitary being who 
appeared to have got any good by going. Hea- 
ven grant there might have been some. With a 
great deal of difficulty I persuaded a man to go 
down with a carriage for the other ladies. At 

* I learned afterwards that this youn? man went at the opening of the camp, 
with a small bundle, into one of the tents, and there continued through the whole 
meetings. This singular character was once a regular member of a church (not 
Methodist) in P. and was thought too simple to be set aside, thouerh known to be 
a most inveierate liar. On one occasion, while travelling through the country, 
he passed himself ofT as the grandson of a venerable clergyman of the Episcopal 
Church, well known in that vicinity, and was entertained at the tables of some 
of the most respectable ptople in the town— invited to read prayers in the church, 
as he professed to be a candidate for the ministry. This he did, and escaped 
undiscovered. He then proceeded to one of our western settlements, where, 
chancing to hear some inquiry made respecting- a good old lady in his town, 
lately deceased, he told them she had left an immense'fortune, which she amassed 
by keeping a hotel. Tiliis family, who chanced to be heirs at law, entertained 
him with cordial welcome, and actually came a journey of many hundred miles 
to Claim the property, and found the whole a falsehood. The author of that story, 
and of many other similar decepti.ins!,is among the Shaking Quakers in New- 
Lebanon, where he has at last, as he says, *' made his principles bend.to his 
temporal interests. 



192 APPENDIX. 

last, after finding two men to go and assist him, 
he went. He said there had been one carriage 
just before which had all the harness cut off of it 
at the entrance of the wood. I could not rest 
until the whole company were safely housed. — 
They returned about one o'clock in the morning. 
The inhabitants of the neighborhood long had 
cause to remember that meeting. The effects of 
it were distinctly visible. Fences torn to pieces, 
and fields of grain wantonly trod down and distroy- 
ed, with other excesses, absurd and unnecessary, 
bear witness to the little reformation in morals the 
meeting had occasioned; but over and above all, 
the haggard and jaded looks of those people, when 
they commenced their homeward march on the 
following day. A rain, the first the earth had been 
blest with for some time, fell on that day, and 
many of them must have been caught without a 
shelter — some with little infants in their arms. — 
One I saw at the camp which the mother told me 
was three weeks old ! 

It must be obvious to every person, of common 
sense, that if camp meetings exhibit such scenes 
to moral persons, to those u'ho penetrate the re- 
cesses in their neighborhood the view must be 
still more revolting. Stories have been told and 
still are, that almost stagger credulity itself, and 
they carry with them this proof of their authen- 
ticity, that the most depraved and abandoned of 
the human species, are always fond of resorting 
to them. If the writer of this true sketch can be 
a means of opening the eyes of any well disposed 
persons, who have hitherto been disposed to up- 
hold them, it will be a source of lasting satisfac- 
tion, and a full reward for all the resentment which 
ignorance and fanaticism may award. 



OBSERVATIONS 



OBSERVATIONS 

ON THE 



Upon looking over the preceding pages the au- 
thor has not been able to discover any mistakes, 
though there are many things which may be lia- 
ble to misinterpretation, and some things omitted 
which the limits of the book would not permit her 
to discuss. Of the firsi of these, the reflection 
upon spreading the report in Providence, which 
proved so disastrous in the after life of Miss Cor- 
nell, is not meant to be attributed to the mer- 
chants spoken of — the scandal we know was 
transmitted to the public through other organs. — 
And with respect to the letter from Bristol to one 
of the witnesses, containing three dollars, and 
which is said to be the sum actually due her, da- 
ting from the time she v/as summoned, it is due 
that witness to state, that in her narration to the 
author of this, she did not say it was not due her, 
because she was totally ignorant on that head, but 
she expressed some surprise that they should 
have " left it until after Avery was taken again," 
particularly as no recompense had been tendered 
her for her attendance at Newport where she had 
bee,n " summoned by the prisoner and detained 
much longer." 

There is one subject upon which we wished 
largely to have descanted in this work, but upon 
which a few words must suffice : that is, the great 



196 OBSERVATIONS. 

injury and injustice which the publication of the 
life and character of Sarah M. Cornell, has done 
to that class of young women whose lot in life has 
compelled them to labour in a manufactory. — 
Many have taken the liberty to say that if all 
those disgusting particulars were true, it proved 
to demonstration that " vice was not regarded 
among that portion of society as it was in any 
other community : that there was little regard to 
morals among them, or that persons could not 
have been tolerated and associated with as we 
know she was — and finally that it ought to be a 
warning to parents not to let a daughter go to 
those places, which was going to certain ruin." — 
Now nothing can be more unjust than this. There 
is no person who deprecates the practice of send- 
ing little children into a cotton manufactory more 
than the author ; she avers with truth that she 
has often been affected to tears at the sight of the 
little innocents, compelled to leave their beds be- 
fore the rising of the sun and labour until long 
after its going down in those establishments, and 
that perhaps to support some idle, drunken father, 
or miserable unfeeling mother ; but when she has 
again seen healthy, sprightly and well educated 
girls, labouring to assist some widowed mother, 
or to give education to some half dozen little 
brothers and sisters, her feelings have received a 
different impulse. There is no way that grown 
up girls in the present state of society can get bet- 
ter wages — nor where their payment is so sure. 
And the privilege of working in manufactories to 
such is a great one. That these girls are careless 
of their conduct or their company is scarce ever 
the case — and the author has known numbers de- 
spised and shunned, and hunted from the manu- 



OBSERVATIOiNS. 197 

facturing villages, upon a charge of a much less 
serious nature than any of those brought against 
S. M. Cornell, that is, where they had no meeting 
to shelter them — where backslidings and recov- 
eries, expulsion and reinstation, were a common 
thing. In such a case perhaps it might not be 
known out of the meeting. Why, if it were pub- 
licly known, as it ought to be, a girl guilty of half 
the offences she is charged with, in the state of 
Massachusetts or Connecticut, would at once find 
herself in the House of Correction. 

The publication of this matter however has had 
one good tendency which is obvious. It has gen- 
erated a suspicion of those noisy, ranting profes- 
sors, who go about interrogating every one they 
meet, to know " if they love the Lord ? if they 
enjoy religion ? if they are not ashamed of Jesus?" 
&c. &.C. which none but grossly ignorant or hy- 
pocritical people ever think of asking. We hope 
and trust it has not lessened the respect felt for 
those modest, practical and retiring christians, 
who mind their own concerns, and pursue the 
even tenor of their way, without seeking to ob- 
trude themselves or their religion, except where 
propriety sanctions, and principle and duty au- 
thorize them to do it ; and these occasions are not 
rare. There are daily and hourly opportunities 
for the real christian to shew forth the beauties 
of holiness, without disgusting people with imper- 
tinent interrogations, discovering an impudence 
and boldness inconsistent with their sex and pro- 
fessions. 

Since writing this book we observe there has 
been a great hue and cry among a certain class — 
thfit religion was in danger from dwelling upon 
this subject — that it was better to have it smother- 



198 OBSERVATIONS. 

ed, or in their language, " dropt,''^ and that every 
christian who lent his aid to keep it in memory, 
was strengthening the hands of infidelity. To 
such we would say, we view the subject in a very 
different light, and we consider it as a very suspi- 
tious circumstance in professors or ministers of 
the gospel when they wish to smother " spiritual 
wickedness in high places." We firmly believe 
that religion is not so inseparably connected with ^ 
E. K. Avery, so identified with him, that it must rise 
or f'dW with him, or indeed with any other preach- 
er. We have always believed that the existence 
of counterfeits, was itself a proof there was real 
coin somewhere, and have been accustomed to 
consider the Christian Church as a net cast into 
the sea which gathered fish of every kind both 
bad and good. Our Bibles tell us " there will be 
deceivers in the last days." We consider the 
scripture as fulfilling, and that these enormities 
being foretold and now accomplishing, proves 
them true ; but we are not warned to spare such 
offenders because of their professions, but on the 
contrary, " that judgment must first begin at the 
house of God." And we believe whoever is able 
to assist in this and in pointing out the difference 
between true and false religion, is doing society 
and religion itself a great service ; and though 
men may mistake our motives, we can appeal to 
the Searcher of all hearts for the purity of them, 
and we look with hope and confidence for his 
approbation at the resurrection of the just. 



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